


Sakusa's Secret Admirer

by TwilaFrost



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Baseball Player Sakusa Kiyoomi, Falling In Love, Fluff, Love Letters, Love Poems, M/M, Miya Atsumu is a Little Shit, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Pining Miya Atsumu, Pining Sakusa Kiyoomi, Secret Admirer, Tennis Player Miya Atsumu, but also a cinnamon roll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilaFrost/pseuds/TwilaFrost
Summary: Every day after practice, Kiyoomi finds another letter inside his shoe locker. It's only every signed: -❤He's determined to find this person. Is it crazy to fall in love with someone you've never met?
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 243
Kudos: 1136
Collections: SakuAtsu Fics





	1. Who Art Thou?

**Author's Note:**

> I just had this idea and decided to go ahead and make it a short little fic. I hope you like it!

The locker room is loud as usual as the team changes out of their practice clothes. Between Bokuto’s booming voice, Kuroo’s hyena laugh, and Hinata and Kageyama bickering, it’s a circus. Kiyoomi’s team is full of clowns, but he’s used to it by now. He’s able to skillfully dodge out of the way as Nishinoya’s shoe goes flying past his head. Yeah, this is normal for the Ōkamitani Baseball Club. Really, though, Kiyoomi would be lying if he says he isn’t having fun playing with these guys, no matter how much he wants to strangle them half the time. Thankfully, there are enough sane members to balance out the chaos.

Packing up the rest of his gear, he can see Komori waiting for him. Kiyoomi knows his cousin is only so patient for one reason, and the reason is that he's an insufferable nosey bastard. 

Ever since about halfway through first term, Kiyoomi has been receiving an anonymous letter in his shoe locker almost every day. It appears there by the time he’s finished with practice. It’s become part of his routine to check after he’s finished for the day instead of just leaving it for the next morning. He’s found that it tends to improve his mood after a rough practice session. 

The first time he saw a letter sitting innocently in his locker, he stared at it with disdain. Someone had put their mouth on that to seal it. He made Komori get it out. It was then they found that the envelope was not sealed with bacteria-ridden saliva but a little sushi sticker with a winking face. It proved that the person at least knew him well enough to respect his mysophobia. It’s the first time he actually ended up reading something shoved in his locker, and from that moment on, he’s always looked forward to it. Not that he shares that information with anyone. 

Kiyoomi has no idea who it is. He doesn’t even know if they’re a boy or girl. The handwriting is very ambiguous. It’s never signed with a name, only a heart. He’d like to know who it is, but there’s just nothing to go off of. The only lead he has is that they are most likely fond of literature, as a large number of the letters are a poem rather than a note. The only person he knows that’s into literature more than the average person is Akaashi, and that’s a big no. He’s dating Bokuto, and they’re obnoxiously in love. 

Walking past Komori, he heads to his locker knowing that his cousin is following him. It’s an open secret that Kiyoomi has a secret admirer. The team likes to pester him, but he’s not much fun to tease, as he doesn’t react. It doesn’t stop them from trying, though. 

Looking into his locker, he sees a light blue envelope and pulls it out. The sticker today is a smiling onigiri. Cute. Komori still hasn’t said a word as Kiyoomi carefully opens it to not rip the sticker. It’s a poem.

_Omi-Omi,_

_I could paint galaxies on your skin,  
Map them until it’s become a sin.  
Get lost in your endless eyes,  
Where I wouldn’t ever say goodbye.  
Orbit around you like a satellite,  
Gravity’s pull always keeping you in sight.  
Your gaze is like a black hole,  
Sucking me in, out of my control.  
While many will look for the cosmos above,  
I need only search for your love.  
You make up the entire universe.  
Maybe this will forever be my curse._

_-❤_

He feels his face flush, red extending even above his mask. This person always refers to him as Omi or some variation, and it never fails to make him blush. He’d probably kill anyone who tried calling him that in person. No, this is reserved only for this person. 

Reading the poem for a second time, he absorbs the meaning behind the words written. Kiyoomi typically isn’t much of a poetry person. He never understood why such flowery language was needed to convey a simple meaning. Being a very literal person, half the time the metaphor is completely lost on him. However, now he thinks he understands. Having someone write like this to him has opened his eyes to how beautiful the written word can be. 

It’s completely irrational to be taken with a person he’s never met. He has no semblance of who this person is or what kind of person they are. Though that doesn’t stop his heart from racing and red cheeks from blooming with the butterflies dancing in his stomach. It’s honestly a gross feeling, but he can’t deny the way it makes him smile secretly behind his covered mouth.

When he looks up, Komori is giving him a small closed-mouth smile. “A good one today?”

Kiyoomi nods. It’s always a good one.

At home, he pulls out his shoebox that contains his growing collection of notes and poems. But before he puts in this latest one, he changes his mind and pins it to his cork board instead. It’s reserved for his favorites. He might be embarrassed if anyone saw, but it’s not like he ever lets anyone into his room. Well, except Komori who will make fun of him regardless. Cousin privileges only. 

Sometimes he tries to imagine who it might possibly be. He analyzes every small detail to try and figure it out. They must be in an afterschool club due to the timing of the letter’s drop off, but that doesn’t narrow it down all that much. Maybe someone from the literature club? He can’t help but think the person is a small, cute girl with the stickers and just some of the wording in previous letters. However, he might just be stereotyping. 

Whether it’s a girl or a boy doesn’t much matter to him though. While he wants to know, he’s also afraid that once the mystery is over he’ll lose interest. That wouldn’t happen though, right? It’s not the mystery of the person that intrigues him, it’s the words and how they make him feel. No one has ever expressed things like that to him before. 

Growing up, he was usually left to his own devices. His siblings are all much older than him and have long since moved out. His parents are workaholics and are barely ever home. The only family member he talks to regularly is Komori, and that’s just because they go to the same school and are on the same team.

Kiyoomi wouldn’t exactly say that he’s _popular_. He may be the best pitcher in the league, but he’s not considered to have a winning personality by any means. No, the only reason his name is called from the stands is because of his ability to help get their team to the Championship and Invitational. In the halls at school, he’s mostly left alone; known as the germaphobe kid with a sour attitude. Over the past year and a half, it has greatly deterred the number of people trying to confess to him for some stupid surface-level reason. The one time he wants someone to come forward to confess, they stay hidden in the shadows. 

Walking into class before the start of first period is always a shit show. If Futakuchi isn’t trying to provoke Kyoutani for his own enjoyment, then it’s Nishinoya and Hoshiumi having some stupid competition with Tanaka acting like a broadcaster with Suna recording the whole mess. Kiyoomi slides into his seat on the right side of the room next to Akaashi and Kenma who are both quietly participating in their own activities. Reading and playing a PSP respectively. Why can’t everyone be like them? 

A loud crash and yelp ring from the back of the room followed by bellowing laughter. He turns to see Miya (the poorly bleached blonde one) flat on the floor with a tipped over chair beside him. Kiyoomi doesn’t want to know. God, what an idiot. That moron is always tripping over air. It’s a wonder how he’s a renowned athlete. Though Kiyoomi can’t say he’s seen it for himself. He’s never watched a single tennis match a day in his life.

Today, first period is English literature. They’re starting a unit on Shakespeare. Gross. Kiyoomi has enough hassle deciphering his translated works. Now adding English to the mix? Goodbye Top 10, it was nice while it lasted. Ugh, and they aren’t even doing a comedy. The tragedies are always harder to understand. Fuck you, Hamlet. You’re probably going to be dead by the end of this play anyway. 

Must they read the first few scenes aloud? Listening to his classmates struggle with the complicated English is giving him a migraine. Dear lord, this is painful. The passages are so long. This in no way helps Kiyoomi better understand what Shakespeare is trying to get across with these characters. Because really, is Tanaka even trying to say the right words as he reads Claudius’s lines?

When Miya is called on to read for Hamlet, Kiyoomi wants to slam his head on his desk. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse. However, when Miya reaches his first line that’s more than a single sentence, Kiyoomi raises his head and looks back at him.

“Seems, madam, Nay, it is. I know not 'seems.' 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black-” Miya continues his passage with ease.

The fuck? He’s not the only one in the class gaping at him reading with perfect inflection of iambic pentameter. Since when did this idiot know English so well? And Shakespeare? Hello? Even their teacher is impressed and praises him for his performance. 

Huh. Not that Miya is stupid (though he’s an idiot) because he’s in Top 10 as well, but Kiyoomi is still a higher rank. He refuses to let this unit drop him below _Miya_ of all people. 

Bokuto’s gold eyes are wide in concentration as he stares Kiyoomi down from the batter’s box. However, he’s unfazed. In fact, that’s something all their team’s pitchers are known for. Their unflappable expressions tend to unsettle their opponents. Between Ushijima and himself, it’s uncommon for the need to bring out Kageyama or Suna, but they're all good or they wouldn’t be on the team. 

Kiyoomi is known for his wicked cutter ball while Ushijima is a commodity being left-handed with a killer four-seam fastball. Kageyama is always changing it up and experimenting, but he’s consistently reliable. And let it be known that the way Suna is able to hold the ball exactly the same way for a variety of pitches really pisses off the batters. 

Iwaizumi gives him the signal for a screwball. Bokuto always has the most trouble with the balls that run in on him. Kiyoomi nods and throws the ball over the plate resulting in a strike as Bokuto swings and misses. Now his catcher wants a sinker. Man, Iwaizumi really wants to fuck with Bokuto today. Another miss. He’s really agitated now, and Kiyoomi is thriving off of his frustration. There’s nothing better than striking out a powerful hitter. A circle changeup does the job. 

“Why are you guys being so mean today?!” Bokuto whines. 

Kiyoomi can hear Iwaizumi’s evil chuckle from the mound. It’s not like their opponents won’t take advantage of that weakness. Better to work it out now. 

Surprisingly, Bokuto isn’t sulking. He overheard him talking about Akaashi having a practice match or something today. Maybe that’s why. Plus, he was the last batter before the end of practice. 

In the locker room, Bokuto talks at Iwaizumi and Suna about the tennis match. The two dark haired teens just nod and hum in acknowledgment of his ramblings. Their boyfriends all play. 

“Sakusa-kun, you should come, too!” Bokuto appears in front of him.

“Why?”

“You’ve said you’ve never seen a tennis game before! I think you’d like it!” 

Kiyoomi looks at him skeptically. He really has no interest. Seems boring.

Suna walks over and smirks. “Maybe you’ll get to see Atsumu fall on his face.” 

Now _that_ he can get behind.

“Not likely. You know as well as I do that he and Osamu just won the Inter High,” Iwaizumi interjects. 

The fox-eyed man shrugs noncommittally. “Or I can just convince Osamu to slam one right into his back.”

He sees Komori raise his bushy eyebrows behind the guys trying to get him to go with them. The look in his eye says he should be social, but Kiyoomi doesn’t _want_ to be social. He just spent an entire day surrounded by these people. 

After a significant amount of Bokuto’s pleading and Iwaizumi and Suna’s judgmental eyes, he ends up agreeing, “Fine. But I need to stop by my school locker first.”

Iwaizumi is on him like a hawk, “You’re still getting those love letters?”

“They’re not love letters,” he denies.

“Oh? Then what are they?” Suna wiggles his eyebrows. 

Kiyoomi refuses to indulge the lot and walks out on them. He hears four pairs of feet trailing after him. God, why is everyone so insufferably nosey? Don’t they all have their own lives? They can kindly fuck off.

It appears they cannot, in fact, read his mind and continue to stand by as he reads his newest acquisition. Oh lord, it’s in English. 

_But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?  
It is the east, and Kiyoomi is the sun.  
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,  
Who is already sick and pale with grief,  
That thou her bachelor art far more fair than she:  
Be not her bachelor, since she is envious;  
Her vestal livery is but sick and green  
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.  
It is my mister, O, it is my love!  
O, that he knew he were!  
He speaks yet he says nothing: what of that?  
His eye discourses; I will answer it.  
I am too bold, 'tis not to me he speaks:  
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,  
Having some business, do entreat his eyes  
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.  
What if his eyes were there, they in his head?  
The brightness of his cheek would shame those stars,  
As daylight doth a lamp; his eyes in heaven  
Would through the airy region stream so bright  
That birds would sing and think it were not night.  
See, how he leans his cheek upon his hand!  
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,  
That I might touch that cheek!_

_-❤_

Is this fucking Shakespeare? He just got left Shakespeare in his locker. He’s going to have to decipher this later because the vultures are leering at him. 

“What?” He snaps at their smirking faces.

“Your ears are red.” Suna points out with a shit-eating grin. 

“Fuck off!”

The five of them slide into the bleachers after Kiyoomi gives it a healthy wipe down. The Miyas are in the lead it seems. He has no idea what the rules of tennis are, let alone doubles tennis. He’ll just have to watch and find out, he supposes. 

“15-love!” He hears the blonde Miya before he hits a powerful serve over the net. The opposing pair can’t return it in time. Damn, that was fast. 

Miya gets ready to serve again. “30-love!” Wait, 30? He just had 15 points. Tennis is dumb. 

He caves and asks, “How does scoring work?”

Iwaizumi explains without taking his eyes off the match. “Love is zero. It goes love, 15, 30, 40. Once they reach 40 they have to score one more time at game point to win. They have to win at least 6 games to win a set. And you have to win by 2 games. It’s best of 3 sets.”

Okay. That’s easy enough. It sounds like it could potentially go on forever though. Looking at the scoreboard, he can now tell that the Miya brothers have already won three games and are now about to take game four. 

“Atsumu and Osamu haven’t lost a set all season,” Suna boasts of his boyfriend. 

That’s actually… impressive. No wonder they won Inter High. Kiyoomi watches as the tennis ball whips back and forth over the net, not even touching the ground on the Miyas’ side as the grey-haired twin gets close to the net and slams the ball on the other team’s side right in the corner of the court. They had no chance. 

It appears that only one single person serves for the whole game as it’s the blonde twin serving again. The team returns it only for a twin to blast it right between their opponents. 

It’s a little hard to tell which twin is which at first glance with them wearing those white hats. Only the bottom tips of their hair stick out. However, the way they hold themselves is a dead give away. No one except Miya Atsumu can put that much sass and arrogance in a single cock of the hips. Except maybe Oikawa, but he doesn’t have a doppelganger that he needs to be differentiated from. 

The twins easily take the first set and do a chest bump.

Suna rolls his eyes with a fond smile. “Losers.” 

Before Kiyoomi knows it, the second set is over with the Miya twins winning the match. Wow. Doubles tennis is a lot faster paced than he ever would have imagined. The brothers move in sync with some weird twin telepathy or something because of how coordinated they are.

Now Akaashi and Oikawa are taking the court. Bokuto cheers for his boyfriend louder than necessary, of course. Oikawa blows a kiss to Iwaizumi who rolls his eyes before pretending to catch it to his boyfriend's absolute delight. 

Their game is different than watching the Miyas play. Both teens are excellent, but they don’t have quite the same presence. Their teamwork is still near flawless though. 

After a few games, the twins join their group. 

“Nice match, Babe,” Suna says, patting the bench in front of him indicating for the gray-haired Miya to sit.

When he does, Suna wastes no time draping himself over him. “Thanks. How was practice?”

He turns his attention away from the couple when he hears a loud voice to his left. “So what didja think O-” he coughs, “uh, Sakusa-kun?”

Crossing his arms, he examines the blonde. He looks like a dog waiting to be told he’s a good boy. “Not bad, Miya.” 

Miya’s eyes brighten and he beams, “Ya shoulda seen me at Inter High. I was on fire. Yer gonna cheer us on at the Mayor's Cup, right?”

“We’ll see.” Kiyoomi smirks at his expression. Apparently, Miya is just full of surprises today.

Kiyoomi watches as he walks up and yells, “‘Kawa, show ‘em the move!” 

Oikawa flashes a peace sign as Akaashi serves the ball. On the return, he sticks his leg up and hits the ball from underneath it. Oikawa manages to score the point, although his coach yells at him. Miya laughs in glee while Akaashi looks holy unamused.

That was just rude. This other school doesn’t have even the slightest chance on Ōkamitani, and everyone knows it. These wolves are bloodthirsty. The Miyas showed no mercy, and Oikawa just styled on them. Disgusting.

Of course they win. It’s no surprise. As Oikawa and Akaashi greet their significant others, Komori slides next to Kiyoomi. 

“So,” the single word lingers in the air. Komori is about to say something unpleasant, he’s sure of it. “I take it you liked the match, huh?”

Kiyoomi turns to face him with a frown hidden behind his mask. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Just that you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off it.” There’s hidden meaning there. Komori knows he hates having to try and read between the lines. Apparently he’s been hanging out with Ushijima too much. 

“Either speak plainly or don’t speak at all.”

Komori puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Nothing. I guess I was just wondering if you had anyone who you hope is your secret admirer.” 

He furrows his brows. Does he? He’s not sure. Hasn’t really thought about it.

Komori laughs. “Don’t think too hard, Cuz. I’m probably mistaken,” he smirks as his eyes flash to something behind Kiyoomi before coming back.

Turning around, Miya Atsumu leans against the side of the bleachers typing something on his phone. Does Komori mean- No. Even if he did, (which he doesn’t) there’s no way it’s Miya. He’s way too “cool” and popular to ever be caught dead leaving love letters in someone’s locker. He’s the type that would just confess with how overconfident he is. 

When Miya catches Kiyoomi looking at him, he flashes a too-bright smile. Yeah, no way.

Once in his room, Kiyoomi pulls out his letter that he needs to decipher. Alright. He can do this. He’s about to make Shakespeare his bitch. Taking his time to read it, he realizes it’s a passage from Romeo and Juliet, only slightly edited to fit Kiyoomi’s name and gender. 

Essentially he gathers that he’s the light and the sun and is more beautiful than the moon, who is jealous because the moon only reflects the sun’s light. This person wishes to capture his attention, to be the one that Kiyoomi adores. And some other metaphors for beauty and love.

Does this person really think of Kiyoomi like that? Or are they just taking a random passage from the play? Surely they put thought into it like they have everything else. 

However, they’re wrong. It's not Kiyoomi who is the sun, it's them. Kiyoomi is the moon, merely seeking any brilliance that the sun will cast upon him. For it's the sun that lights his day and warms his heart. If only they would be bold and speak their heart.


	2. To Be, or Not To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the start of the busiest time of year for Kiyoomi. Between baseball tournaments, midterms, and the Culture Festival, it's a nightmare. Especially with a certain someone still consuming his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually shocked at the reception the first chapter received. Thank you so much 😭 I appreciate everyone who reads, comments, and leaves kudos. You are all amazing. Also, you may have noticed I increased the chapter count... I feel like I always do this. Try to make something short and then it grows. So I hope no one is mad at me 😫 
> 
> Baseball is actually a huge deal in Japan. I knew it was big, but I had no idea how big until I was looking into it. Crazy. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

The Fall Tournament is quickly approaching in just a week’s time. They need to place in the top ten to get to the Meiji Jingu Tournament and then secure their place at the Spring Invitational. He’s not overly worried. This summer they placed second at the Championship. It’d take something catastrophic to eliminate them early. 

Kiyoomi is warming up when he spots some student council members heading towards the field. He has a feeling he knows what they’re here for. It is approaching that time. Ugh. As they approach he lets out a groan seeing who they are. Here comes the chaos.

“Tsukki!” Kuroo abandons his bat and beelines for the bespectacled blonde.

Nishinoya is not far behind. “Asahi!”

At least Daichi is calm as he heads towards Sugawara. Meanwhile, their Student Body President, Kita, gets respectful waves and smiles as he makes his way to Ushijima with a flyer.

Yep. It’s for the Culture Festival. He can’t quite decide if he wants Ushijima to agree to have the Baseball Club participate or if he’d rather participate with his homeroom class. Actually, no, Ushijima please say yes. There’s no way he’ll survive whatever his homeroom would concoct. 

The Culture Festival is a stupid required event. It falls right in between tournaments. It’s a pain. He’s also pretty sure no one on the team has an artistic bone in their body. What are they going to do? Use all of Suna’s random recordings of epic fails and mash it together into a feature-length film? Tempting.

Kiyoomi sees Ushijima nod, and Sugawara jots something down on his clipboard. Sugawara gives Daichi a kiss on the cheek and waves to everyone else as he and Kita get ready to leave. 

Tsukishima is diligently trying to shove Kuroo off of him so he can take a few pictures, but it’s futile. Asahi gave up as soon as Nishinoya jumped on his back. Yeah, sorry Kita, you’re not getting your Historian and Treasurer back. Just take your Secretary and flee before it’s too late. He wonders if Semi was captured at a previous stop since the VP is nowhere to be seen.

Well, the rest of practice is a moot point now. Ushijima gathers everyone with just a few words, and the student council members quickly make their escape. This is going to be a nightmare with the tournament and midterms. They have basically a month to plan and create their booth or whatever. That epic fail video is looking better and better.

It’s October second, the first day of the Fall Tournament. Luckily it takes place here in Tokyo. Unluckily, that means they still have to attend class since their game isn’t until six o’clock. The day is just dragging on and on. 

This is literally the worst time of the year. Between the baseball tournaments, midterms, and Culture Festival, Kiyoomi is barely a functioning human being. Instead of an exam, his English Literature teacher is assigning an essay. On Hamlet. This is even worse. Kiyoomi isn’t a good writer. And he has to put into words what this shit means. His brain is too mushy to comprehend this level of bullshit. 

Staring at the five prompts to choose from, he’s at a loss. None of these are going to be easy. He read the play and got pretty much zero information out of it. That “To Be or Not To Be” speech was an absolute shit show. He has no idea what Hamlet was questioning. What’s the question, Hamlet?! 

Glancing to the back of the room, he sees Miya actively engaged in a conversation with Terushima, who looks utterly confused, though he keeps nodding along. He could ask- No. But then… Ugh. He knows he needs help. There has to be another option. Akaashi is good at literature, right?

Leaning over to his left, he gets the hiss attention. “Akaashi, can you help me with this Shakespeare stuff?”

“I’m not well versed in Shakespeare myself. I’m much more proficient in Japanese Literature,” he frowns. “If you need help, you should ask Atsumu.”

Great. Whelp. Pride be damned. Looks like he's asking Miya for help.

After class, Kiyoomi walks up to his. “Miya.”

He bolts up in his seat from where he was packing his notebook in his bag. “Uh, yeah?”

“You’re knowledgeable in Shakespeare. Please help me with my essay.”

Miya’s eyes widen before his mouth forms into a smirk. “Well, well, well. This is a first.”

“Don’t make this worse than it already is.”

“Of course I’ll bestow my knowledge on ya Sakusa-kun.” He stands so he’s closer to Kiyoomi’s height. “When are ya wantin’ to meet up?”

Letting out a silent sigh of relief he replies, “I don’t have a game tomorrow. Is after practice fine?”

“Yep, sounds good to me. Good luck at yer game today. I’ll be cheerin’ for ya.” He grins and heads to his after school club. 

Kiyoomi sincerely hopes he doesn’t regret this.

Heading to his own clubroom, he wonders if he’ll have a letter in his locker before he leaves for his game. He’ll get shit for it, but Kiyoomi will be making a detour before they depart. 

Taking his seat on the bus, he starts opening his letter. The way his heart jumped when he saw the envelope is kind of embarrassing. Good thing no one was there to witness it.

_Omi-Omi,_

_I’d wish you luck at your game today, but you don’t need luck. There’s no luck involved in your dedication to baseball and the breathtaking power behind every ball you pitch and hit. Your biceps are proof enough ;) So, no, you may not need luck, but I’ll still be there in the stands cheering your name. Maybe you’ll even see me there, Omi-kun. Also, here’s a little ode that I hope you enjoy._

_A thing that will make a grown man act like a fool,  
But when you feel it, it’s like being submerged in a warm pool.  
Oh the feeling is all around,  
Though you cannot hear a sound.  
In winter it is closely bound,  
But in summer it floats freely around.  
Even if it can be portrayed by a fling,  
There is only one true thing.  
So why go through all the hassle, one may ask,  
I say, because it’s where you don’t have to hide behind a mask.  
It is pure and true,  
Hopefully it will find you._

_-❤_

Kiyoomi’s heart thumps to a rapid beat in his chest. They’ll be at the game today? They like his biceps? He feels a little warm and casually looks at his arms covered by his dark blue compression shirt. He guesses they’re okay. This poem is talking about love, right? They hope it finds Kiyoomi. What if it already has?

“What do you have there?” Suna leans over the bus seat from behind him with a smirk. “Another love letter?” 

“No.” Kiyoomi turns the paper so the other’s sharp eyes can’t read it.

Suna slightly raises an eyebrow. “Oh, my mistake. That must not have been a winky face and heart I saw in that familiar handwriting. My bad.” He says it so flippantly Kiyoomi almost misses it.

“Wait, did you say familiar?”

“Did I?” Suna wears a foxlike grin as he sinks back into his seat making Kiyoomi scramble up to look peer over the seat himself to look at him.

“You did. Tell me who it is.”

“Mmm. I don’t think I will,” he says crossing his arms behind his head. 

Kiyoomi blinks dumbfounded at him. “What? Why?”

“Because you took my tutoring time tomorrow.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Then why did Atsumu text me saying that he’s helping you tomorrow after practice and not me.”

He’d feel bad if Suna wasn’t already being an ass. “Just get your boyfriend to help you.”

“Psh. You think Osamu is good at this shit? He steals Atsumu’s notes.”

“Then use the notes he steals.”

Suna closes his eyes like he’s about to take a nap. He probably is. “Can’t decipher them. Freaky twin thing. Only ‘Samu can make sense of his shorthand.”

“Don’t know what to tell you.”

“Then I don’t know what to tell you~” His teasing tone contrasts with his blank face. What a dick.

Kiyoomi huffs and sits back down in his seat. So Suna knows who it is. Or he’s bluffing to try and fuck with him. That’s a high possibility. Damn, so he can’t even rely on that source. And the bastard definitely knows that. 

Bokuto sits across the aisle from him. He has been uncharacteristically quiet, as well as his seatmate Kuroo. Both teens have been observing the previous conversation. Kiyoomi doesn’t like the expression on either of their faces.

“Have you ever thought about writing back?” Bokuto suddenly asks.

“Huh?”

“You know, leaving a letter in your locker for them to find.” Hen cocks his head thoughtfully. “People like knowing they’re cared about.” 

Kuroo nods in agreement with a tiny smirk pulling at his lips. “Maybe it’ll convince them to reveal their identity.”

He hears Suna snort, but he doesn’t interject. Kiyoomi faces forward in contemplation. He’s never thought to do that. Should he? What would he even say? He’s not good at expressing his feelings, even worse at writing his thoughts. He’ll have to think about it.

It’s the bottom of the sixth and Ōkamitani is up by three runs. It’s not surprising that they lead by so much. The team they’re currently playing lacks heavy hitters. Suna is probably asleep out in the outfield. In his peripheral vision, he can see flashes of Hinata’s bright hair. The second baseman is antsy for a pop fly. 

The stands are filled with their school colors of royal blue and white. From the pitcher’s mound, Kiyoomi can’t help but scan the crowd. He knows he won’t know which face belongs to his secret admirer, but he hopes one of the eyes he meets belongs to them. He’s almost surprised to see the yellow hair of Miya Atsumu, but the other did say he’d be here. Surrounding him is his obnoxiously large friend group. Most of them are also in the tennis club, but really, who has that much energy to keep up with so many people?

Winding up for his pitch, Kiyoomi lets loose a curveball that’s hit right down the third baseline. Bokuto easily scoops it up and throws it to Ushijima at first for an out. With the ball returned to him, he eyes the next batter. They look absolutely terrified. Excellent. He decides to throw them off even more with a forkball. 

It’s almost surprising that the batter actually manages to hit it, but it’s that pop fly Hinata’s been waiting for. He secures it and runs back to tag his base for a double play. Jogging to the dugout, it’s time for the top of the seventh. 

After bowing their thanks for a good game, the team packs up to talk with their friends who came to watch. It was almost too easy. The team received a beating not unlike the team from the tennis match yesterday. The final score is 9-2. He’s pretty sure their spirits were crushed the moment they got three strikeouts in a row in the bottom of the fifth. 

Tendou skips over with Oikawa and Akaashi not far behind. “Wakatoshi! You looked so good out there! Top form as always~” he says while feeling up the stoic teen’s arm muscles. 

“Ah, but did you see my Iwa-chan hit that triple?” Oikawa combs his fingers through Iwaizumi’s helmet hair while said man tries to shake him off. 

“Oi! Stop it!” Oikawa just laughs and gracefully twirls out of Iwiazumi’s reach.

“AGAASHI! Did you see how great I was?!” Bokuto barrels over to his boyfriend.

“Of course, Bokuto-san. Very impressive.” 

Komori sidles up to him while everyone else's significant others descend on the team. “So how’s it feel to be the only single person here?”

Kiyoomi glares down at his cousin. “I’m not the only single one on this team.”

“You are. Amanai confessed to Aran two weeks ago. Don’t you pay attention?” He jerks his head to the right.

Looking over, he sees the girl’s volleyball ace talking to Ojirou with a red face. No fucking way. Does that mean Kageyama and Hinata got their shit together too?

At his dumbfounded expression, Komori laughs. “It’s alright, Cuz. There’s nothing wrong with being single. It builds character.” 

That shit-eating grin says otherwise, but Kiyoomi refuses to give him the satisfaction. He wouldn’t be single if he could just figure out who is leaving him letters!

“Komori!” They turn to see Suzumeda waving him over. She stands with Shinofuku, Kita, Suna, and the Miyas. 

Komori glances back to him. “We’re going to go get dinner. You want to come with us?” 

Kiyoomi curls his nose. The local restaurants are always packed after a game and this is a tournament. The thought makes his stomach twist. “I’ll pass.”

Komori shrugs. “Suit yourself.” 

He watches his cousin head over to his girlfriend. What a weird group of friends. When Kiyoomi makes eye contact with Miya, the blonde gives him a thumbs up and a large toothy grin. He feels his stomach twist again. Maybe it’s just a conglomeration of weird people.

“What do ya mean ya don’t know what he’s sayin’?” 

“It means I don’t know what the fuck he’s saying. Did you get hit in the head today at practice, Miya?”

Kiyoomi is quickly learning that Miya Atsumu isn’t a patient person. He's is completely taken aback at how utterly clueless Kiyoomi is with this damn play. The librarian shoots them another dirty look as the teen sits back down. 

Miya huffs but explains, “Hamlet is questionin’ his own existence. He’s askin’ if it’s better to be dead or alive.”

Really? He looks down at his copy of the play and tries to see it. To die, to sleep. That says nothing about being alive. He furrows his brows and tries to translate Shakespearean English to regular English then to Japanese. Fuck this.

He hears Miya sigh. “Have ya at least picked what prompt ya wanna do?”

Kiyoomi looks up with pursed lips. He could just do the one on this soliloquy since they're already talking about it. Plus, then he wouldn’t have to decipher the whole thing. “I’ll do number three.” Miya looks at the list and nods. Then because he’s curious he asks, “Which one are you doing?”

“The one on if Hamlet was actually insane or not.”

“He seemed pretty crazy to me.”

“Nah. He’s actually pretty rational. His ‘To Be or Not To Be’ soliloquy shows a very clear thought process. Let’s get started, and I’ll prove it to ya.” Miya smirks with confidence. 

By the time he’s able to have the soliloquy translated into his own words, he thinks Miya might actually be right. Damn. Miya sits smugly in his chair with his leg propped up. 

“If I give you a draft, will you proofread it for me?” Kiyoomi asks hesitantly. He doesn’t really want to owe Miya any more than he already does, but he wants good marks on this. 

“Sure Om- on one condition,” he coughs awkwardly. Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow to ask what it is. “Come to the Mayor’s Cup.”

That’s it? He was expecting Miya to hold something big over him. “Fine. But what exactly is that?”

Miya squawks in indignation. “It’s only the highest level international juniors tournament!”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’. What is the Mayor’s Cup,” he grumbles. “Of course that’s only if ya don’t have yer own game at the same time. Yes, I know the baseball schedule. I pay attention to other sports. Unlike some people.”

Kiyoomi shrugs a little sheepishly. “Thanks, Miya. I appreciate it. You helped me a lot. Here’s my email.” He writes it down and slides it over.” 

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Any time. If ya need more help just ask.” 

He looks almost shy. Is he blushing? Kiyoomi supposes that he doesn’t often compliment people. 

Leaving an uncharacteristically quiet Miya in the library, he heads to his shoe locker. He thought the session might be rough, so he left himself this as a reward. Turns out it wasn’t that bad after all.

He smiles at the sight of the lavender envelope and fat little hamster sticker keeping it closed.

_Congratulations on your win yesterday, Omi-kun! I had no doubts. I think about you a lot, you know? I wonder sometimes if you ever think of me._

_Please keep me in your mind tonight,  
even when you become a shooting star  
that lights up the darkness of the world.  
I long for you to hold me in a tender way,  
like a precious soul with a beating heart.  
Oh, how you make me feel like I can fly!_

_You can’t possibly know how you fly  
away with my every thought at night,  
how every ounce of my fragile heart  
leaps with just a singular star-  
struck look. Nothing could keep away  
the thoughts that consume my world._

_And who’s to say that in this world  
that I can’t pretend that I will fly  
with you? In my dreams, the way  
is clear in the transient night.  
It’s sprinkled with luminescent star  
dust that strikes a fire in my heart. _

_What would it be like to hold your heart?  
I promise to keep it safe from the world  
and not let your beautiful star-  
light fade. But perhaps you would rather fly  
free than stay with me. But if you were a knight,  
would you rescue me and take me away_

_from the dark troubling way  
my mind resists what my heart  
longs for in the dark recesses of night?  
Would you like to stay in my world  
where together we can fly  
up high and touch each star_

_in the sky? Where each star  
reflects the incandescent way  
your smile makes me fly  
to nirvana. Where my heart  
creates its own rhythm the world  
can sing throughout the night._

_So would you dare fly to the stars  
with me tonight and find a way  
to keep my heart safe in this world? _

_-❤_

Kiyoomi glances around to make sure it’s clear before holding the poem to his chest. Yes. Yes to all of it. He thinks of them all the time. He feels the same way. Just tell him who it is and he’ll do everything in his power to keep their heart safe. He’ll never let anyone else come within a centimeter of this precious person’s heart. 

Thinking he hears movement, he whips around quickly to catch the person, but no one’s there. At least no one saw him being an absolutely lovesick teenager. 

After pinning up his new poem, he makes a resolve to write something to this person. One way or another, he’s going to find out who it is. 

Laying on his bed, he stares at the ceiling in thought. The person is likely in an after school club. They are probably a second year. The percentage of this rose significantly with the Shakespeare letter since that’s what they’re leaning right now. That narrows it down a little, but there are still so many second years. They may not even be in the same homeroom. 

His phone buzzes with a notification, and he’s not entirely shocked to see that it’s Miya. It appears he’s been added on LINE. Great. He accepts the request with only some hesitation. 

Miya Atsumu is not exactly what he was expecting. For the year and a half he’s known him, Miya has always seemed like someone Kiyoomi wouldn’t be able to stand. The way he presents himself is just so… much. That’s the best way he can put it. But from the short time Kiyoomi spent with him this afternoon, he’s actually considerate? Not a word he would have ever used to describe Miya previously. He was always conscious to not invade Kiyoomi’s personal space and brought antibacterial wipes. Like who does that?

The image of him blushing shyly flashes through Kiyoomi’s mind again. That was unexpectedly cute. What if- Nope. Stop it. Don’t even go down that rabbit hole. 

It took him two days, but he did it. He managed to write a letter of his own. So with slight apprehension, Kiyoomi leaves the letter in his locker before he heads to class for the day. His secret admirer should find it this afternoon. It’s nerve-wracking. He won’t receive a reply until tomorrow at the earliest. 

Walking into homeroom, several people are gathered around the Miya brothers’ desks. A very off-key version of Happy Birthday is being sung. Oh. He’s surprised Miya didn’t say anything about it. The blonde has been ~~badgering~~ messaging Kiyoomi since they exchanged emails. He talks about literally everything, changing subjects every other message. And his spelling is atrocious. For someone that’s decent at English Literature, he doesn’t seem to understand basic grammar. It makes Kiyoomi second guess having him proofread his paper. 

It’s strange having someone actively trying to befriend him. Usually, his blunt words and aloof personality keep people away. None of it seems to deter Miya. And if Kiyoomi is being honest, he’s not terrible to talk to, even if it is headache-inducing. Right now, he’s just too busy with studying and baseball to entertain his antics. How the Miya has the time to bug him all the time is a mystery. 

When Kiyoomi wishes him a Happy Birthday during lunch period, Miya’s eyes shine with joy. “Thanks, Sakusa-kun!” His smile makes Kiyoomi feel a little feverish, the intensity a bit overwhelming. “I heard that the baseball club is doin’ a bottle pyramid game. How borin’.”

“It was either that or whatever videos live in Suna’s phone.”

Miya shudders at the thought. “I see the dilemma. I don’t even wanna know what he’s got in there.” 

“None of us do. What’s the tennis club doing then?”

“A café!” He puffs up proudly.

Kiyoomi quirks an eyebrow. “Like a maid café?”

“What? No!” he says, looking scandalized. “We’re doin’ an anime café and servin’ onigiri and Boba. Miya family recipe, mind ya.” Then he wiggles his eyebrows. “Didn’t know ya were into that kinda thing though, Sakusa-kun.”

He tries to hide his slight embarrassment. Why is a maid café the first thing that popped into his mind? And then why did he say it? Maid cafes are really only in anime. God. Why would he think that?! Now Miya keeps smirking at him. Kiyoomi is _not_ a pervert. 

“I’m not.”

“Sure, sure. It’s alright. I know I’d look great in thigh highs, don’t ya think?” The asshole is still smirking at him with hooded eyes. 

The image floods his mind against his will. Thankfully, his mask hides most of his face, which he knows is red. 

“Fuck off, Miya,” he says, even though he’s the one who leaves. Miya’s laughter tapers off as he gets further away.

Before the game today, he checks his locker like always. He’s more nervous than usual because of what he did. What if they didn’t take it? What if they don’t ever leave him anything again? 

The white envelope he left is gone and in its place sits a mint green one. He sighs in relief. Although he knows tomorrow is going to be a long day waiting to check if he received a reply. 

_My Omi-Omi_  
Meticulous to a fault  
Beautiful is he 

_I hope your day was as good as mine. Especially since I know it’ll end seeing you win another game this evening._

_-❤_

A Haiku. How cute. Their Omi-Omi? Kiyoomi thinks he likes the sounds of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a quick Ōkamitani Baseball Club Sakusa that I drew!  
> 


	3. What's in a Name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October is flying by and the Mayor's Cup is here. With the Culture Festival right around the corner and the Meiji Jingu Tournament soon after, everyone has a full schedule. Even still, Kiyoomi is no closer to figuring out who his secret admirer is, and it's really starting to become a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you all are having a good weekend. Thank you again for all the continued support. It really means a lot to me. I really appreciate you guys 🥰
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Feeling this nervous as he stands in front of his own locker is unbecoming of himself. How long is he going to stand here before he actually looks inside? Taking a deep, calming breath, he peeks in to see a pale yellow envelope.

Okay. So far so good. Now he just needs to actually read it. _Get a grip, Kiyoomi._

_Omi-kun!_

_You never fail to surprise me! I’ve been writing to you for four months now, so imagine my delight that you wrote me back. You have no idea how thrilled I am to have captured your affections. Who knew you could be so cute? Signing the letter as “Your Omi-Omi.” Are you trying to cause my heart to burst? So you want to know who I am. I understand, I do. However, I’m nervous you see. I’m so terrified that I’m not who or what you’re hoping for. This is the easiest way for me to express my feelings for you. I hope you understand. I’d be happy to keep exchanging letters with you though._

_-❤_

Kiyoomi buries his head in his hands both from embarrassment and distress. He can’t believe he actually signed his letter that way. And they called him cute because of it! So it appears this person may have some self-esteem issues. He knows he’s not always the nicest person, but there’s no way he could dislike his secret admirer when he’s already so taken with them. Maybe he can get to know them through letters? Perhaps then he can convince them that he truly likes them, and they’ll say who they are. 

He feels like he’s becoming desperate. Is his life really becoming like a damn shoujo manga? Or one of those K-dramas Komori is secretly addicted to? He shudders at the thought. If a love rival could not suddenly appear that'd be great. Having to compete with someone else for his admirer’s affections is the absolute last thing he needs.

He’s going to be thinking of what to write back when he gets home even though he should be focusing on his English paper. He doesn’t want Miya getting on his case about it. The jackass was bragging about how he already has his outline done. How disgusting. Meanwhile, Kiyoomi is still picking through his notes for his thesis statement. 

Speaking of Miya, he tried to get Kiyoomi to sit with his friend group up on the roof during lunch. That’s a hard no. Do you have any idea how many people that consists of? It’s like a goddamn party up there. No joke. There’s music and everything. 

He’s not really sure why Miya has suddenly taken an interest in him as a person. Before now, they had seemingly flown under each other’s radar. They’ve always been aware of the other, but nothing really brought them into the same circle. Sure, they have a couple of mutual friends (or acquaintances in Kiyoomi’s case) but nothing to the point where they ever hung out together. 

Again, Kiyoomi isn’t really popular and therefore doesn’t consider many people his friend. He can count them all on one hand, and one of them is his cousin. Why does someone so popular want to be around him? Especially Kiyoomi of all people. He knows a lot of people find issues with his mysophobia, but he doesn’t care. He’s learned to ignore it. So the fact that Miya doesn’t have any problem with it is almost baffling. And Miya seems so… high maintenance, for lack of a better term. Yet he doesn’t mind doing extra steps to sate Kiyoomi’s anxiety. Maybe he’s judging too quickly. He has a tendency to do that. 

Later that night, Kiyoomi sits at his desk trying to figure out what questions he should ask in his letter. Should he ask basic get to know you ones or ones that could potentially help him discover their identity? Or a mix? A mix is good. But what exact questions should he ask? Will they think his questions are stupid? Kiyoomi thinks he’s stupid.

When he gets a notification, he pushes away his still blank letter. This is hard. How do they make it seem so easy? Kiyoomi checks his phone and isn’t surprised that it’s Miya. In the few moments it takes him to retrieve his cell, he already has five messages. He’s like a cockroach. As soon as one appears, there are suddenly four more lurking around the corner.

**Miya Atsumu:** sakusa-kun!  
**Miya Atsumu:** r u busy???  
**Miya Atsumu:** this is imprtant  
**Miya Atsumu:** sakusaaaaaaa  
**Miya Atsumu:** i have a ? that i neeeeed u 2 ansr!

God please help him. Just looking at these messages makes his head hurt. 

**You:** What is it Miya?

**Miya Atsumu:** wuts ur fav food?

Is he serious right now?

**You:** Seriously? You spam me for that?

**Miya Atsumu:** yep now anser the ?

**You:** Umeboshi.

**Miya Atsumu:** ahhhhhh makes sense. real sour like u

Kiyoomi frowns. Okay, true, but rude.

**You:** Why did you need to know so badly?

**Miya Atsumu:** its a secret! 🤫

For some reason, he keeps talking to the other for the rest of the night. He even gives Kiyoomi an idea for his thesis statement. Miya asks him loads of questions, and if he steals some of them to put in his letter, then no one needs to know. So it’s a productive night after all. 

He’s on the bus headed to the stadium for their next game when he’s reading the reply to his letter with all the questions. Kiyoomi has strategically positioned himself away from the members of his team that are particularly nosey or have wandering eyes. 

_Omi-kun,_

_My, my how inquisitive you are. You’re not trying to get me to slip up and reveal myself are you now? But of course, you’d never do that, would you? I suppose I can play along and answer your inquiries. To start off, yes, I do. I have a younger sibling. Ha, you thought I would specify? Silly, Omi-Omi. As for the next question, I’d say neither. While most people would probably say I’m an extrovert, I’d classify myself more as an ambivert. I like spending time with people, but sometimes I just really need to be alone, you know? But then I’m bored and think I should have gone out after all. Like it freaks my friends out when I’m quiet.  
Fine, I’ll throw you a bone. Yes, I am in an afterschool club, but I think you already knew that. What year am I? Well, Omi-kun, what year do you think I am? I’m sure you have a hunch. One hundred percent dogs. Cats are assholes, but I mean, I wouldn’t say no to cuddling one if it doesn’t try to scratch my face off.  
This next one is hard. What anime character am I most similar to? Well, I’m not completely sure, but maybe Edward Elric. Don’t worry, I don’t have any crazy childhood trauma. You're probably wanting to know why, but you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself.  
This letter is getting long, Omi-kun. You asked me a lot of questions! Did you really think I would answer some of these? Really? Who is my best friend? Tsk, tsk. But I’ll tell you a little about them. My best friend is an asshole. Yes, I said that. They always put me in my place and yell at me when I’m being dumb (which is apparently a lot). They eat all my food but get mad when I eat theirs. I feel like I’m the only person they ever get mad at. Most people think they’re “chill,” but they just don’t know them like I do. But they always have my back no matter what, and the same goes the other way around. _

_-❤_

Kiyoomi starts analyzing every word. There’s a lot of information here. They have a younger sibling. Yes, he was hoping for something more specifics, but it’s still something. An ambivert? That’s like an in-between of introvert and extrovert, right? He’ll have to look it up later. Kiyoomi can feel sarcasm radiating off of this letter. At least they have a sense of humor similar to his own. And Edward Elric? Yes, he would very much like to know why. Are they short? Smart? Blonde? A prodigy? Arrogant? Then there’s the best friend piece. Nope. Nothing. Ugh. Why are they so cryptic?

He looks up from the paper to see Komori standing in the aisle smiling at him. “Have you decided to join us for the game now?”

Looking around, they are the only two still on the bus. Kiyoomi didn’t even realize they had arrived. “Shut up. Don’t say another word.”

“Yer English grammar is atrocious,” Miya says as he looks over Kiyoomi’s paper.

Kiyoomi scoffs. “Like you have room to talk. The way you text in only Hiragana and still misspell things is awful. No one over the age of seven writes like that.”

Without taking his eyes off the paper, he shrugs. “I can switch to just Kanji.”

“God, please don’t. You would look up the characters just to spite me.”

“Right ya are, Sakusa-kun!”

After a moment, Kiyoomi spots Miya’s own essay draft. It looks handwritten. “Let me see your paper.”

Miya hesitates, “Uh, why?”

“Because I want to read it.”

“It’s, uh, all germy.” Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow. What? “My dog chewed on it.”

He’s pretty sure Miya doesn’t have a dog. “It’s fine. Just hand it here.”

“Fine.” As Miya goes to grab the essay, he knocks over his water bottle, spilling water all over it. “Whoops! Ah, sorry. I’m actually pretty clumsy.” He laughs and picks up the now ruined paper by a corner. “If ya really wanna read it, I’ll print ya out a copy of the final version I have on my flash drive at home. Not sure why I even still had this one with me.” Smiling innocently, he throws away the waterlogged essay and wipes up the rest of the spilled water.

Kiyoomi narrows his eyes. That was weird. Was there something on there he didn’t want him to see or something? Really, he could have just said no instead of going through this whole charade. Now Kiyoomi is curious. And suspicious. For now, he lets it go.

“Alright. Fine. Bring it tomorrow.”

“Okay! Yer paper looks good other than these errors. I circled some and added a few things in blue.” He hands Kiyoomi his draft back. “Ya’ve come a long way from where we started!”

“I still find it shocking that you’re good at this.”

“Hey! I’m a man of many talents!”

“Sure, whatever,” he says with an eye roll. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

October is going by fast. Kiyoomi is pretty proud of the essay he handed in last week, and they should be getting their grade today. The team placed first in the Fall Tokyo Tournament, so they’re just practicing until the Meiji Jingu Tournament starts in the second week of November. The Mayor’s Cup is currently ongoing. It’s all the way in Osaka though. Doubles tennis starts today and continues throughout the weekend for the finals. 

So, yes, Kiyoomi is going to be traveling to Osaka with a few others from the baseball club. Coach isn’t particularly happy that they’ll be missing three days of practice, but it’s not like he’s going to pull Kiyoomi from the game. He promised Atsumu that he’d go. 

Yes, it’s Atsumu now. Over the course of the last three weeks, they have somehow become friends. Shocking. It’s weird. He doesn’t think he’s ever talked to one singular person so often. They message each other every evening and talk every day at school. Now he almost wonders what he did with all that time before the other teen filled it. 

Then there’s his secret admirer. It’s becoming a problem. A serious problem. When he tries to picture them, he keeps seeing Atsumu’s face. He doesn’t like what his brain is trying to insinuate because it can’t be true. Kiyoomi may or may not have compared the two at some point and came up slightly disappointed that they are definitely different people. 

The first discrepancy is that Atsumu’s grammar and spelling are terrible, except in English class. Secondly, he doesn’t have a younger sibling, just a twin brother. Next is another big one. His best friend is Oikawa Tooru, who in no way would anyone ever consider a “chill” person. Then there’s also the fact that Atsumu is one of the most confident people he knows, meanwhile his secret admirer lacks some self-esteem. The odds of them being the same person are against each other. Kiyoomi isn’t sure why that makes him feel so strange. 

Their teacher hands Kiyoomi his essay back and he has to resist pumping his fist in the air. A 93! There’s no way he would’ve passed if Atsumu hadn’t helped him. While celebrating internally, he hears a loud thump from the back of the room. Osamu has his head face down on his desk as Atsumu tries not to laugh. Suna is poking the grey-haired twin in the back with a pencil. He wonders what happened there. Did he not do well?

When the bell rings, dismissing school for the day, Osamu is up and tackling his twin to the ground. Atsumu doesn’t even fight back, too busy laughing. Suna has his phone already whipped out. Kiyoomi casually walks over and peeks at the paper left on top of Osamu’s desk. A 42%. Ouch. At the top, there’s a comment saying, _Did you even read the play?_ Glancing back over to the grappling twins, he catches what Osamu is ranting about. 

“Why would ya do that?!”

“I was tired of ya stealin’ my notes! If ya just asked like a normal person, this wouldn’ta happened!”

“So ya thought makin’ an entire notebook with fake notes of the play was the solution?!”

Damn. That’s petty. How long does something like that even take? Kiyoomi is almost impressed.

“Why ain’t ya mad at Sunarin! I know he proofread yer paper!”

Osamu snaps his narrowed eyes to his boyfriend, who looks completely unbothered. “Your spelling and grammar were fine, and that’s all you asked me to check.”

“ARE YA FUCKIN’ KIDDIN’ ME?!” Osamu springs to his feet and stalks towards Suna. 

“Hey there, ‘Samu. Uh, don’t you need to get ready to leave?” 

“Come ‘ere, Rintarou baby. I just wanna hug ya,” he says in a menacing tone.

Before Kiyoomi can watch his teammate be murdered, Atsumu grabs his sleeve and swiftly makes an escape. Atsumu is still laughing when they reach the tennis club room. 

“I can’t believe you actually did that,” he says with a slight chuckle.

“Hey, it’s not my fault he’s stupid! Like I thought he woulda figured it out when it talked about Hamlet runnin’ off inta the jungle and livin’ Hakuna Matata!”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Atsumu starts explaining with hand gestures, “Well, The Lion King is sorta based on Hamlet. I just used the family-friendly plot. That scene where Simba talks to his dead father is essentially Disney’s version of ‘To Be or Not To Be’.”

Kiyoomi tries to follow but ends up confused. He’s seen The Lion King like maybe once. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Atsumu waves him off. “Never mind. So yer comin’ to Osaka?”

“Yeah, I said I would, didn’t I?”

Atsumu ducks his head with a small smile, and he tries to suppress his own at the sight. Why is he acting embarrassed? Did Atsumu think he wouldn’t go? Kiyoomi isn’t one to go back on his word. 

As they stand there, Osamu casually strolls up eating senbei. “What’re ya doin’? We’re gonna be late.”

Atsumu rolls his eyes at his twin before turning back to Kiyoomi. “I’ll see ya there, Sakusa-kun.”

He nods goodbye and watches the two enter their clubroom. There may not be anything in his locker since after school clubs aren’t over, but he decides to check before he meets up with the others to leave for Osaka. 

There’s an envelope inside. He must have just missed them. Dammit.

_My dear Romeo, you inspire me to write.  
How I love the way you traipse, chant, and lead,  
Invading my mind day and through the night,  
Always dreaming about your proud creed._

_Let me compare you to autumn’s embrace?  
You are more wistful, charming, and serene.  
Cool winds tussle the crimson leaves with grace,  
And autumntime has the secret routine._

_How do I love you? Let me count the ways.  
I love your onyx eyes, hair, and glare.  
Thinking of your lustrous smile fills my days.  
My love for you is a joyous fanfare._

_Now I must thrive with a gentle heart,  
Remember my fond words whilst we're apart._

_-❤_

Do… Do they really mean that? Do they love him? Kiyoomi feels his heart skip a beat. That can’t be healthy. His four teammates find him there with a flushed neck and face.

Bokuto and Komori smile widely at him while Iwaizumi raises a knowing eyebrow. Suna just looks bored.

“I see you’re alive.”

Suna shrugs. “I gave him some food, and he forgave me.”

Well, that explains the senbei. 

“Let’s get going so we don’t miss our train,” Iwaizumi says. 

As they follow Iwaizumi’s lead, it’s then that he realizes the situation he’s in. He’s going all the way to Osaka for the entire weekend with these guys. These guys, who are going to watch their significant others play in this huge tournament. Kiyoomi is going to watch Atsumu, who is not his boyfriend. Is this weird? This is weird, right?

It apparently isn’t only on his mind as Bokuto asks, “So what’s going on between you and Tsum-Tsum?”

“We’re friends.” 

“But you guys have been like attached at the hip!” Bokuto insists.

“I like someone else.”

Iwaizumi glances back. “Your secret admirer?”

“Yeah.”

Suna chokes and starts coughing. Bokuto gives him a few firm pats on the back that make him lurch forward. Bokuto is much stronger than he realizes. 

“What if you never find out who it is? Wouldn’t you regret not taking a chance?”

Kiyoomi frowns. Won’t he just let it go? Why does Bokuto keep insisting that he has a thing for Atsumu? Just because he may have hoped his secret admirer was him at one point proves nothing. Komori doesn’t comment, just giving him a questioning look.

“I’m going to find out who it is.”

It’s Sunday, the last day of the Mayor’s Cup. The way the tournament functions is pretty standard. Every round is a knockout elimination. At most, teams will play five matches if they advance to the finals. Akaashi and Oikawa were knocked out in the semifinals getting third place. The Chinese duo Pan Yang and Li Xing are currently facing off against the Miyas. There is a large section filled with peers from their school to cheer on the twins. They are the obvious favorites to win. 

All eyes are on Miya Atsumu for the first serve of the current game. It’s the third and final set, the Miyas having actually lost set two by a narrow margin. The score is 5-3. If the twins win this game, then they win the cup.

“Love-all!” Atsumu rockets the ball over the net, and most probably wouldn’t be able to receive it in time, but Li is there to make contact. 

The return is just as brutal, and Osamu isn’t fast enough. He can see Atsumu yelling something at his brother, who seems to be staring at something past his head. Kiyoomi doesn’t know Osamu well at all, but he feels that nothing much rattles him. In fact, the only time he sees him show much emotion is either when Atsumu does something stupid or if food is involved.

“Love-15!” 

After his serve, Atsumu moves up on the court to volley the ball back before it bounces on their side. Pan sends it back, equally as fast. The volley battle is intense and ultimately ends when Atsumu hits with a bit too much strength, sending the ball flying out of bounds.

“Atsu-chan needs to calm down or they’re going to lose this game,” Oikawa says contemplatively. It’s strange seeing him look so intense. He’s leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped, and index fingers pressed together in front of his mouth. The analytical look in his eyes seems to pick apart every move on the court. 

“He’s going to be more frustrated with himself now. Atsumu-kun often channels that into a solid comeback if he can cool his head enough,” Akaashi adds. 

Bokuto’s eyes flick between the two tennis players commenting on their friend. “Even if they lose this one, they can still win the match with the next game!” Ever the optimist.

Their other peers are intently focusing on the game. There are so many people here cheering for the twins, it’s a little mind-boggling. It’s not like they are cheering for a giant team to bring glory to their school, this isn’t a typical high school match. It’s just two people representing the youth of Japan. Not that these two people aren’t extraordinary. 

Komori is whispering with Suzumeda, who placed third with Shirofuku in the girl's doubles bracket. Kiyoomi sees her giggle and lean into his cousin. Gross. But he still wants that for himself. Ugh. 

Refocusing on the game it’s game point in favor of Pan and Li. 

“40-30!” Atsumu’s kick serve hits in the top right corner with no resistance.

Wow. That had to have been faster than some of Kiyoomi’s fastball pitches. They’re at a deuce now. The twins still need to score twice in a row to win.

Kiyoomi bites his bottom lip, his nerves settling in. Never did he think he’d be so invested in a sport that isn’t baseball. Watching how Atsumu’s strong arms maneuver the tennis racket is almost mesmerizing. His thighs pushing him swiftly across the court are surely a sight to behold. And his-

Kiyoomi shakes his head. What is he thinking? Yes, Atsumu is attractive, he’s not blind. This is just teenage hormones, his true feelings lie with someone else. They’re friends. You don’t think about your friend’s assets like that. He has certainly never thought about Iwaizumi like that, so why is he with Atsumu? 

He watches as Pan is unable to return Osamu’s volley. Now they only need to score one more time.

“Ad-40, match point!” 

Atsumu’s serve is met by Li, who smacks it back for Osamu to volley. Li slams the ball down causing it to bounce high in the air. With a jump, Atsumu gets an overhand in to send it back over the net. Pan’s connection sends a crossover that looks like it’s going to bring them to another deuce. However, in a display of amazing athletic ability, Atsumu makes contact with the ball from between his legs. Caught off guard, Li barely receives the ball. This allows Osamu to send back a powerful smack right down the line. 

They won! The entire section stands to cheer. The twins hug each other and Atsumu might be crying. Kiyoomi is thankful for his mask because no way can he not smile at the sight. He’s proud of his friend. That last play was so intense. 

“Atsumu really is amazing, huh, Cuz?” Komori smiles at him with a sly look in his eye. 

With the second-hand high running through his veins, he nods. Atsumu is amazing.

He’s waiting with the others for the medalists to be released. Four medals from their school. Suzumeda and Shirofuku got third in girls doubles, Hoshiumi ranked second in boys singles, Oikawa and Akaashi got third in boys doubles, and Osamu and Atsumu placed first in boys doubles. Their school has incredible talent. 

Akaashi and Oikawa are the first to appear. Bokuto makes haste in grabbing his boyfriend around the waist and spinning him around. There’s a small smile on Akaashi's lips. Oikawa, on the other hand, makes a running leap at Iwaizumi, who dutifully catches him. 

“What the hell Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi scolds. Oikawa only laughs, still secure in the other’s arms. 

When Atsumu bounds out with a gold medal around his neck, he heads straight for Kiyoomi with a beaming smile on his face. 

“Om- my gosh! Can ya believe it? I mean, of course, I knew we’d win, but I’m still a lil’ in shock!” 

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “Congratulations. You played well.”

Atsumu's eyes seem to shine. “Ya really think so, Sakusa-kun?”

He’s a little taken aback by the tone of Atsumu’s voice. Kiyoomi didn’t even praise him like he really intended to. The bland words just came out before he could think better of it. Though Atsumu acts like he told him everything he wanted to hear.

“I wouldn’t say so if I didn’t mean it.”

The genuine smile he receives makes something strange happen in his chest. 

“Atsu-chan, Osa-chan! Come over here with Keiji-kun and me to take a picture!” Oikawa shouts. 

Kiyoomi watches as the four teens pose with their medals while their boyfriends diligently snap a few shots. The entire time, he can’t take his eyes off of Atsumu’s bright smile. 

What is this feeling? It feels similar to when- Oh no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Ōkamitani Tennis Club Atsumu. I drew him using the Prince of Tennis cover pose as my reference because it just kind of screamed Atsumu to me. Disclaimer: I have never actually seen Prince of Tennis.  
> 
> 
> Also I made a [Twitter](https://twitter.com/TwilaWrites) and IDK what I'm doing. I've avoided social media for so long, but quarantine got me like. Someone teach me 😭


	4. All the World's a Stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the Culture Festival, and Kiyoomi has to deal with a huge revelation and make a tough decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for all the support I've been receiving on this fic. I really appreciate it!
> 
> The last poem in this chapter is lyrics to the song Your Reality by Dan Salvato from DDLC with a slightly modified second verse.

When Kiyoomi had said that a love rival is the last thing he needs, he didn’t anticipate one forming like this. He figured it would be a rival to himself, not that he’s suddenly the protagonist forced to choose between two people. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to be a dick and lead someone on, but he doesn’t want to unnecessarily hurt someone either. Plus, he has no idea if Atsumu even feels the same way. 

So now that Kiyoomi has accepted that he does, in fact, have feelings for Miya Atsumu, everything is a mess in his mind. While it’s true that his feelings are stronger for his secret admirer, it’s hard to not have lines blur. Atsumu is a tangible person he can see and hear. Meanwhile, his secret admirer has an obscured form. Emotions are stupid. Life was fine before all of these gross feelings invaded his body.

He wonders if he should ask someone for advice. Though he’s reluctant to admit it, it might prove useful. Weighing his options, he figures it might be least humiliating to ask his cousin. Ushijima is a no, as he’s worse at this stuff than Kiyoomi (yet he still has a boyfriend unlike himself). Iwaizumi would probably be insightful, but there’s always the chance that Oikawa will somehow weasel his way into the situation, and that is the last thing he needs. 

If someone had told Kiyoomi this time last year that he’d be in this situation, he’d have scoffed and walked away. And more than likely called them disgusting. Kiyoomi and romance were never quite on the same page. He’d been the one to most likely roll his eyes at the stupid cliques in tv shows and movies. Look who’s laughing now. It’s sure not Kiyoomi. 

Maybe this is fate's twisted way of enacting revenge on him for always being too much of an asshole. He’s gotten better, okay? Give him some slack. 

After practice, Kiyoomi walks with his cousin to his locker. He can tell Komori is a bit confused that he’s not rushing on ahead like usual. In his mind, he’s trying to form a game plan. Like what he should ask him. 

He’s made some progress with his secret admirer, but it isn’t as much as he hoped. The list of facts he knows is still horrendously short. They’re really making him work for it. Or perhaps they’re just really crafty.

_Omi-Omi!_

_The Culture Festival is in just a few days! Are you excited? Actually, I know you’re not. It’s not your kind of thing. But I am! My club is doing something awesome, and I can’t wait! Will you come visit us? Well, I guess you wouldn’t know, would you?_

_Oh! I also wanted to tell you that you looked really handsome at the Mayor’s Cup. Yes, I was there. Sometimes I just want to shout out who I am when I see you. It’s getting harder and harder to keep this a secret. Do you really think I have a chance? Would you be disappointed? I’d be absolutely crushed if you were. You see, Omi-kun, I’ve really fallen for you. I didn’t think it was possible to become more entranced by you, but every day proves me wrong. How do you do it? It makes me feel like a fool flying blindly._

_Okay, okay, I’ll answer one of your questions now. Really, I thought by now you’d have run out. Why do I like you? Do you really need to ask? Well, buckle in, Omi-kun, because you’ve opened the floodgates. I like you, Sakusa Kiyoomi, because of the way you see the world. How you never leave anything half-finished despite your reluctance in some cases. Once you set your mind to something, you never fail to amaze me. Your determination is inspiring. I love the way most people think you’re cold and aloof, but they fail to see how expressive your eyes are. It really is like that saying of eyes being the window to the soul, and your soul is so, so beautiful, Kiyoomi. The way you take care in what you do, never harsh, despite your taciturn expression. I love seeing your secret smiles you give when you think no one is looking. How your eyes light up when someone is living up to your cleanliness standards is adorable. The small things you do for your friends without them even noticing and not expecting anything in return. Your quick wit and banter that I know you don’t find as annoying as you pretend to. I love it all. Ah, I’ll stop rambling now, but I mean it. I mean every word._

_-❤_

Kiyoomi stares and stares. He had no idea someone paid so much attention to him. He’s never noticed someone’s eyes lingering on him longer than normal. But this proves that this person knows him well. His chest feels warm, content. There’s a smile on his face, hidden from view. This is it. This is the final straw. He has to know who this is. If he doesn’t, then… Well… He doesn’t know.

Kiyoomi looks up to his cousin, who is patiently standing by. “Komori, help me find them.”

He cocks his head. “Of course, but what if they can’t be found?”

“Nothing is impossible.”

Komori nods in understanding. “What about your feelings for Atsumu?”

He’s not surprised his cousin picked up on that. Hell, even Bokuto seemed to before he realized it himself. Kiyoomi doesn’t want to call Atsumu his second choice because he’s not. Or is he if he has to choose? He hates this.

At his silence, Komori speaks again, “You’re going to have to choose.”

“I don’t even know if Atsumu feels the same way about me.”

With the most exaggerated eye roll he says, “Don’t be stupid, Kiyoomi. How about this. Spend time with him at the Culture Festival, flirt a little if you’re capable. Then after that, decide. You’re going to have to be frank with your secret admirer. Tell them you want to date them and know their identity, or you have to move on. You can’t keep floating in this limbo forever.”

Kiyoomi knows he’s right. He doesn’t like it, but it’s the right thing to do. “Alright.”

This year, Culture Day falls on a Friday, so that’s when the festival is held as well. Atsumu has been giddy about the tennis club’s anime café. He won’t even tell Kiyoomi what character he’s dressing up as. He wonders if it’s going to be nearly as _amazing_ as the other has hyped it up to be. 

However, for now, he is working at his own club’s booth. As he watches Bokuto throw the ball into the pyramid of bottles stacked, he thinks Atsumu was right; this is pretty lame. 

When Kuroo spots Daishou on his way over with his girlfriend Mika he insists on taping the bottles down. Kiyoomi doesn’t quite remember what their beef is. He thinks it has to do with volleyball, which mind you, is neither of their club sports. Daishou is on the swim team. 

“Well, if it isn’t the Snake Face,” Kuroo sneers.

Daishou cups his ear. “Oh I’m sorry, did you say something? I couldn’t quite hear over your cock-a-doodling.” 

While they’re having their pissing contest, Iwaizumi gives Mika a ball to throw. Kiyoomi watches as she surprisingly knocks them all over. Daishou immediately turns into a docile puppy, praising her. Bokuto excitedly hands her one of the stuffed prizes they have. 

When they walk away, Bokuto bounds over. “Did you guys see that? I bet Akaashi would be good at this!” Kiyoomi and Iwaizumi exchange a look. “Oh! You guys are going over to the anime café soon, right? Akaashi is dressed as Joker from Persona 5. My heart can’t take it! I need to be there to fight off all the guys that are lusting after him!” 

Suna snorts from behind them. Kiyoomi has no idea how long he’s been there. “You should see what Atsumu’s dressed as.” 

Bokuto cocks his head. “Who’s Tsum-Tsum cosplaying?”

Suna glances at Kiyoomi and smirks. “You’ll see.”

He has a very bad feeling about this. 

“What about Oikawa and Osamu?” Bokuto asks.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Oikawa thinks he’s hot shit as Roy Mustang.”

“Osamu is the original edgelord,” Suna says with a wry smile that is mimicked by the other two teens. 

Kiyoomi has no idea what that’s supposed to mean. 

When the clock hits noon, Bokuto wastes no time signing out of his shift and impatiently bounces on his feet for the others to join him. Kiyoomi may or may not sign his name extra slow just to be an ass and make Bokuto whine. Then the four of them head to where the tennis club has set up shop in one of the largest available rooms. 

Approaching the entrance, he can already hear chatter and smell rice cooking. It sounds busy. Kiyoomi can safely say that he was not expecting the scene they walk in on. Holy shit. There are so many people in here. Kiyoomi kind of wants to curl up in the corner and die. 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa is immediately in front of them in his Amestris military uniform as the Flame Alchemist. He doesn’t see Iwaizumi complaining anymore, he thinks smugly. 

Kiyoomi can’t discern much else until they’re seated, then he feels more at ease. At the table adjacent to them, Kita, Semi, and Shirabu are being waited on by Shirofuku dressed as Mikasa. Then there’s a very irritated Hoshiumi as Kaneki waiting on Terushima and Gao, who both appear to be trying to flirt with him. Poorly. It’s like they’re having a contest of who can make the bigger fool out of themselves.

When Komori spots his girlfriend wearing a Sailor Moon outfit waving at him, he turns so red Kiyoomi thinks he might have actually contracted a sudden fever and subtly scoots away from him. He’s not taking any chances.

Bokuto practically vibrates and is impossible to keep in his seat once Akaashi appears. He looks like a man possessed as he pulls Akaashi into his arms and looks around for anyone who dares threaten to take him away. Although Kiyoomi has to admit that his teammate’s worries aren’t completely unfounded. Those red gloves kind of _do_ something to Kiyoomi.

“Gin would be Kazuma,” Suna says blandly. 

Kiyoomi turns in the direction Suna is facing to see said silver-haired teen conversing with Yamaguchi in a Midoriya costume. How fitting. Frowning he turns back around. He still has yet to see either twin. Or one specific one. 

“Atsu-chan! Your boyfriend is here~” Oikawa shouts towards the partition that Kiyoomi assumes they put up to separate the kitchen from the dining area.

“Shut yer trap ‘Kawa!” Comes the reply. 

Kiyoomi briefly sees Suna smirk and whip out his phone, aiming to capture whatever is about to happen. He can’t even process what Oikawa called him before Atsumu comes into view. And suddenly, this is so much worse than a maid café. 

Stalking towards him like a jungle cat on the prowl is Miya fucking Atsumu dressed in Katsuki Yuuri’s Eros costume. It clings to every inch of his body, and if Kiyoomi were a stronger man, he’d be able to resist raking his eyes over the blonde, but he’s not. The jewels catch the lights just right, making them sparkle with every movement. Atsumu comes to a stop with a spin, making the half-skirt flare. He strikes a pose with his goddamn tongue out of his goddamn mouth. Holy fuck. 

Kiyoomi is grateful for his mask, as he’s pretty sure his mouth is hanging open. Forget guys lusting after Akaashi, this is who Bokuto needs to bodyguard. Actually, Kiyoomi can do that himself. He volunteers as tribute. 

“What d’ya think?” Atsumu asks. 

Kiyoomi can’t speak, his throat is too dry. This is embarrassing. Komori nudges him from under the table. 

“Good,” comes his raspy reply. Clearing his throat he tries again. “I mean, you look good.”

Oikawa raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Well, I think you look hot. And it makes your ass look great.”

“Ya think?” He turns around and looks over his shoulder.

Kiyoomi can’t help but look too. Shit, it does. It’s then that he realizes that Suna is still recording. Kiyoomi levels the iciest glare at him. All that accomplishes is for the fox-eyed teen to wiggle his eyebrows without any other part of his deadpan face moving. Ah fuck. He definitely got Kiyoomi checking out Atsumu’s ass on camera. Did he say this was embarrassing? He meant fortifying. He’s half tempted to get up and walk out. 

“So what can I get y’all?” Atsumu asks, taking out a notepad.

Then Kiyoomi has another awkward realization. There’s no way he’s eating onigiri. Who knows who touched it and if their workspace is clean? When it’s his turn to order, he only asks for Boba.

“Ah! That’s right, ya probably don’t want onigiri ya ain’t sure is clean and stuff.” Atsumu looks at Kiyoomi shyly and bites his lip. “Uh, I may have made some for ya. Like I made sure I made it first right after everythin’ was cleaned. Would… Would ya eat that, Sakusa-kun?”

God, how is he able to look so cute and sexy at the same time? Kiyoomi’s eyes linger on his right side where the costume is made of see-through mesh material. “Oh. Yeah. That’s fine then. I trust you sanitized properly.”

Atsumu smiles and bounds away. Kiyoomi stares after him. And that’s the strange thing, isn’t it? He really does trust him. 

Someone loudly clears their throat, gaining his attention. It’s Oikawa. Fuck, Kiyoomi forgot he was still here. He wears a conniving grin. “Enjoying the view are we?”

Kiyoomi chooses to blatantly ignore him. Suna then makes a big show of finally turning his phone off and placing it in his pocket. Fuck his life. 

“Well that was highly entertaining. Now time to go show this to Osamu.” He stands and makes his way behind the partition. 

Oikawa promptly takes his seat. “So,” he dramatically sweeps his hair back, “tell me when you’re finally going to grow a pair and ask him out.”

Kiyoomi’s eyes widen briefly in shock. Jesus. He doesn’t hold back.

“Oi! You can’t just badger people about their love affairs.” Iwaizumi punches his arm lightly. 

“Mean, Iwa-chan!” He mockingly rubs the spot. Turning his full attention back to Kiyoomi, he leans his elbow on the table, “But seriously. Just kabedon him! He’ll swoon!”

“I’ll kabedon your head if you don’t quit it.” Iwaizumi tries to shove Oikawa away. 

Oikawa squawks, “Not the hair! Not the hair!”

Before he can think too much about it, Atsumu reappears with Suna and Osamu carrying trays of onigiri and Boba. Kiyoomi finally understands the edgelord joke. Sasuke. He should have known.

“Alright, here ya go! Enjoy this Miya Special!” The blonde says with a self-satisfied grin. 

Before taking a bite, Kiyoomi carefully examines the onigiri in front of him. He can feel Atsumu watching him, so he embraces it and dives in. He’s surprised when he tastes the familiar sour of umeboshi. Did he actually remember? 

After finishing his bite, he looks up to Atsumu’s expectant face. “Umeboshi?”

“Ya said it’s yer favorite.”

Kiyoomi considers his shy expression. Cute. “It’s good.”

“Ya sound surprised.” 

“Maybe a little. Who knew you were good at anything domestic.”

Atsumu smirks. “Like I’ve said, I’m a man of many talents.”

After the group finishes their food, Kiyoomi goes to invite Atsumu to walk around the festival with him when he sees Komori give him a meaningful look. He shouldn’t be this nervous, but they’ve never really hung out like this before. They’re both way too busy at this time of year. Although, things will be winding down in a couple of weeks. 

He approaches Atsumu, who is animatedly chatting with Oikawa. “Atsumu.”

He turns to face Kiyoomi. “What’s up?”

Oikawa doesn’t leave. He just stands there with his arms loosely crossed with a smirk on his face. Bastard.

“I wanted to know if you want to walk around the festival with me.”

Atsumu’s eyes light up, and he opens his mouth to respond; but the lurking brunette’s voice answers instead, “What a great idea! Iwa-chan!” He barrels past them towards his boyfriend, knocking his friend forward in the process.

Suddenly, he has his arms full of Atsumu. The thin material of the costume leaves very little to the imagination, and Kiyoomi can feel the warmth of his skin. Atsumu has his own hands braced on Kiyoomi’s shoulders and looks up at him with an adorably flushed face that mirrors his own. He knows Oikawa probably did this on purpose, but he can’t find it in himself to be all that bothered. Not when this is the result.

Kiyoomi has the indescribable urge to kiss him. However, Atsumu pulls himself away just moments after falling. 

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” He says frantically to Kiyoomi. Then he turns in Oikawa’s direction. “Watch where yer goin’ ‘Kawa!”

“It’s fine.” Because it is. Does Atsumu think he’s going to freak out or something? It’s Atsumu. Plus, Kiyoomi knows he's clean since he’s been handling food. “So you never answered.”

“Oh. Of course! Let’s go now before ‘Samu drags me back in the kitchen.” He starts for the door.

“Umm, don’t you need to change?”

Atsumu looks down like he forgot what he’s wearing. “Nah. This is pretty comfortable. Plus, less chance of ‘Samu catchin’ me.” Then he looks up with hooded eyes. “Unless it’s too distraction’ for ya.”

Kiyoomi quickly walks past him to avoid detection of his blush. “No,” he lies. “Come on, hurry up.” 

Atsumu scrambles after him to keep up with his hasty departure. 

They decide to see how their homeroom’s idea turned out. He knows it’s a haunted house or whatever, but it can’t have turned out all that grand. However, when they arrive at the blocked off section of the school designated for the attraction, he might stand to be corrected.

“Whelp, we saw it. Time to go,” Atsumu says and tries to casually walk away. 

“Let’s go in.”

Atsumu doesn’t stop walking away. “I’ve decided that I don’t want Mad Dog-chan comin’ after me in there.”

Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow and attempts to goad him, “Don’t tell me you’re afraid. It’s just our classmates.”

“I’m not scared! I’ll show ya, Sakusa-kun! You’ll be the one hidin’ behind me by the end of this!” he says and stomps back over to the entrance. Kiyoomi smirks. So predictable.

Atsumu is, in fact, scared. He jumps at every little sound and hides behind Kiyoomi when Aone’s hulking figure appears wearing some mask. He’s not sure what it is, as his attention is on Atumu clutching his arm. Suna would be having a heyday here, but he’s probably too lazy to keep popping out to scare someone. 

Kiyoomi is impressed. Kenma must have done all the programming for the special effects. While Kiyoomi casually strolls through looking around, Atsumu is shaking in his metaphorical boots. He’s not completely sure if it’s all from fear, as it is rather chilly in here. That costume is definitely providing zero insulation. Moron.

Shrugging off his club jacket, he flings it at Atsumu’s face. “Put that on before you freeze to death, you idiot.”

“Thanks.” He puts it on and even in the dim lighting, Kiyoomi can see perfectly how it hangs on his frame. The image of Atumu in that damn costume and wearing his jacket is forever seared into Kiyoomi's brain. 

Walking down the next hallway, Kyoutani jumps out in a werewolf costume and proceeds to chase Atsumu as he screams and runs away. Kiyoomi just stands there, blinking a few times before chuckling to himself and following the distant yells. Why does he like this bumbling fool? It’s kind of endearing though.

When he finds his companion at the exit huffing and puffing, he can’t help but admire him. Wearing a fond smile, Kiyoomi feels that he knows what he has to do tonight. It’s not going to be pleasant, but it’s for the best. 

It’s Tuesday after practice. He should be getting a reply to the letter he left in his locker on Monday morning. His heart pounds in his chest with nerves. Today has already not been the best. 

First, he realized that the reason he can’t find his club jacket is because Atsumu never gave it back on Friday. Then there’s the fact that said teen was acting super weird all day today. He was quiet and seemed… Sad? Kiyoomi tried to ask him about it but was quickly shut down. It’s not like he was being avoided exactly, but it was strange for Atsumu to not be at his side. Now, he has to face what his secret admirer said. Here goes nothing.

_Omi-kun,_

_So someone has caught your eye? I understand, especially since I’ve been so evasive. I don’t blame you. I’ve been such a coward, asking for your love and refusing to give you the one thing you’ve asked for in return. They must be very special to you, and they’d be crazy to turn you down. I want you to be happy, Omi-kun. So is it selfish of me to try one last time?_

_Every day, I imagine a future where I can be with you.  
In my hand is a pen that will write a poem of me and you.  
The ink flows down into a dark puddle.  
Just move your hand, write the way into his heart.  
But in this world of infinite choices,  
What will it take just to find that special day?_

_Have I found I can finally express my feelings for you this way?  
When you're here I get scared, and I clam up and think, “No not today.”  
When I can't even say my own feelings,  
What good are words when a smile says it all?  
And if this world won't write me an ending,  
What will it take just for me to have it all?_

_Does my pen only write bitter words for those who are dear to me?  
Is it love if I take you, or is it love if I set you free?  
The ink flows down into a dark puddle.  
How can I write love into reality?  
If I can't hear the sound of your heartbeat,  
What do you call love in your reality?_

_And in your reality, if I don't know how to love you,  
I'll leave you be._

_This will be my last letter, then. If you would still like to know who I am, meet me under the Japanese Maple after your practice tomorrow._

_-❤_

Oh god. Kiyoomi’s heart hurts. Why does it hurt so much? Clutching the paper in his hands, he grits his teeth. Kiyoomi is the selfish one. He’s the one who would keep them both if he could. 

For how can he give up the person who has opened his eyes to look at the world from a different perspective? The person who taught him that, yes, Kiyoomi can love. He knows now what love is and how it can manifest in the most beautiful of ways. That love can bloom and be held for a person whose existence is but a mere flicker of a candle. 

Then there’s Atsumu. The person who he bonded with, laughed with, smiled with. The one who he sees every day and still thinks he’s beautiful. Kiyoomi learns something new about him every day, and it never fails to endear him even further. Atsumu is like a storm. A beautiful, chaotic storm that can leave devastation in its wake or a dazzling rainbow in the sky. And Kiyoomi can’t help but love him. 

Then there’s the problem that Atsumu can always reject him. Although several others seem to think otherwise, Kiyoomi still has his doubts. Either way, he’s going to meet his secret admirer tomorrow. This is what he’s wanted from the beginning. When he’s finally face-to-face with them, he’s going to have to make the final choice: Confess to them properly and never tell Atsumu a lick of his feelings or reject them and confess to Atsumu. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

The maple tree stands proudly in the distance. Its crimson red leaves gently sway in the wind and tumble, scattered like a well thought out painting. The sky is beginning to bleed with hues of orange and purple, casting a hazy gleam over the landscape. It’s picturesque, and Kiyoomi takes a moment to take in the scene and collect himself before he heads over. 

From behind the trunk, he sees the fabric of a blue Ōkamitani jacket peeking out. So this is really it. The closer he gets, the faster his heart beats. He’s finally going to see who it is. The person who has been on his mind for months on end. 

At the sight of yellow-blonde hair caught in the breeze, his heart feels like it’s on a bullet train. No way, no way, no way. Is it? This has to just be his irredeemable hope planting thoughts into his mind. Though when he sees the person’s silhouette, he feels like he can’t breathe. Does he really dare to hope that it’s-

“Atsumu?” 

His secret admirer turns to face him with a small smile. “Hey, Omi-kun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to have Atsumu dress as Edward Elric because of what he said in one of his letters, but then this Eros Atsumu brainrot entered my mind and wouldn't leave until I drew it. So suffer with me.  
> 
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/TwilaWrites)


	5. Love Looks Not With the Eyes, but With the Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiyoomi finally comes face to face with his secret admirer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you so much for all the love on last chapter. I really appreciate and love you all. 💕
> 
> So I'm going to be honest, this chapter took a bit of an unexpected turn. I had a lot of trouble with it, and everything I wrote just didn't seem right. This ending is what kind of stuck with me, so I hope you all still like it. 
> 
> Last poem is inspired by a variety of Chase Coy songs. If you like softer acoustic music I recommend.

Kiyoomi feels like his throat is closing, as no air reaches his lungs. This can’t be real. Someone is playing a terribly cruel prank on him. All he can do is stare into the golden-brown eyes looking at him with a shiny, wet gleam.

Atsumu chuckles humorlessly. “From the way yer actin’ ya must be disgusted, right? I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not. Bein’ able to get close to ya and bein’ able to express how I feel ‘bout ya has been a true pleasure, Omi-kun. I’m jus’ sad that it has to end now.”

Kiyoomi tries to move his mouth to refute the utter bullshit this moron is spouting, but he can’t seem to find his voice.

“But I am sorry if ya thought it was gonna be someone actually amazin’. I’m sure whoever it is that ya’ve developed feelin’s for is really somethin’. I guess all I wanted to say is-”

Finally able to seize control of his body, Kiyoomi surges forward, boxing Atsumu in against the tree trunk with his hand landing next to his head. “Do you ever shut up?”

Atsumu's wide eyes stare back with cheeks flushed, but he’s silent at last.

Pulling his mask down under his chin, Kiyoomi continues, “Do you have any idea what sort of duress you’ve put me through this past month? What sort of headache-inducing utter bullshit has been going through my mind nonstop?”

The teen in front of him looks down with glassy eyes. “I didn’t realize I was causin’ ya pain. That was never my intention. Will ya at least tell me who it is? Who stole yer heart?”

Kiyoomi is slightly taken aback. This absolute- Is he being played right now? He needs to make sure. “Answer me first. How can it be you?” Atsumu looks up, confused. “The clues. They don’t add up. Your sibling, best friend, grammar, confidence.”

“I’m the older twin. So ‘Samu is technically my younger sibling. He’s also my best friend, asshole that he is and all. I don’t normally text like that. Couldn’t have ya figurin’ out my writin’ patterns. And do I look confident right now to ya?”

Taking it all in, it makes sense. He’s an idiot. They both are. “It’s you.”

“Eh?”

“It’s always been you,” he leans in closer, “you absolute moron.”

Atsumu is stock-still against the tree trunk, arms by his side and eyes round in surprise.

“Atsumu, you made me fall in love with the idea of a person just through words. Then you go and barrel into my life as a tangible presence. This disaster of a human being who quadruple texts me in the span of seconds, reads fucking Shakspeare like it’s a simple children’s book, plays tennis like he’s made for it, smiles like the sun he is, and drives me completely mad. And now I find out that they’re the same person.”

“Wh-what are ya tryin’ to say, Omi-kun?” The apprehension is thick in the air.

“That you are the most frustrating and mystifying person I’ve ever met.”

“Omi, I-”

“So, yes, you are my secret admirer, and I’m your Omi-Omi. The only thing I want to change is that now you’re my Atsumu.”

Atsumu looks like he’s going to cry at any moment, and his voice is shaky when he finally replies, “Yes. Please. I’m your Atsumu.”

Kiyoomi gently closes the distance between them. 

It’s soft and unhurried, as neither of them have experience - just a long press of their lips together before he pulls back. Then feeling a bit more confident, he brings his other hand up to cup Atsumu’s face before kissing him again. 

That’s how his first, second, and third kiss happens: under the Japanese maple behind Ōkamitani Academy on a Wednesday in November. 

The Meiji Jingu Tournament is coming to an end. The finals are ongoing, and it’s currently the bottom of the eighth. This team from Hokaidou is the same one that beat them at the Championships. There are two runners on base, Bokuto on second and Hinata on first, and Kiyoomi’s up to bat. 

Staring the pitcher down with a deadpan expression doesn’t seem to affect them much. Sometimes Kiyoomi’s icy gaze makes them nervous. It’s thrilling. However, this time his gaze does not have a gorgon effect, unfortunately. Though he smiles when he hears _Omi-kun_ shouted from the stands.

Keeping his eye on the ball, he follows the pitch and swings. The connecting hit makes a solid sound as he drops his bat and runs for first base. Nice. Now the bases are loaded, and it’s Iwaizumi’s turn next. 

The catcher is a reliable, strong hitter. So when the ball goes flying into the outfield, Kiyoomi watches slightly to make sure it’s not caught before rounding through second base and on to third. Both Bokuto and Hinata make it home, with Iwaizumi on second and himself on third. That brings the score to 6-7. 

Unfortunately, their scoring comes to an end when Aran’s hit is caught for the third out of the eighth inning. They have one more chance. It’s completely in their grasp as long as they don’t let the opposing team score.

The outlook is rather grim when their opponents just scored for the second time, bringing the score to 6-9. This is frustrating. That last pitch wasn’t his best and allowed the batter to take advantage of it. They just need one more out, so he needs to focus. 

Kiyoomi wants to win. They all do. The look on the two players flanking him is hungry for victory. Those two crazy first years are sure something, that’s for sure. 

Iwaizumi signals for a curveball. He shakes his head. He feels like they are expecting that. Splitter? Alright. He winds up his arm and lets the ball go. The batter makes contact, creating a line drive, which Hinata takes straight to the chest. He falls on his butt with a pained _oof_. 

“Hinata!” Kageyama is first over to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yep! I caught it!” He victoriously holds up the ball and winces with the movement.

“Dumbass!”

He’s going to have a nasty bruise. Line drives are dangerous. The athletic trainer will have to check him out. At least they got the final out. 

Now it’s Ushijima’s turn to bat with Nishinoya on third and Kageyama on first. With the score 6-9, they really have their work cut out for themselves. Japan’s canon is able to bring Nishinoya home and Kageyama to third. There’s one more run. Now only three more. Komori hits a very unfortunate pop fly that’s easily caught. Bokuto hits a beautiful ball into right field, but their outfielder still catches it. Kageyama manages to tag back and make it home though. 

Hinata, who was deemed fit to continue playing, is up. The score is 8-9, and the air is filled with tension. Ushijima is the only runner on base. Kiyoomi breathes a sigh of relief when Hinata hits a powerful grounder that the second baseman fails to pick up. 

Now, if Kiyoomi can get Ushijima home, it’ll tie up the game ensuring that they’re still in this. The first pitch runs in on him, and he has to step back to avoid being hit. He glares at the pitcher who shows no remorse. Asshole. 

“Nice hit, Omi-Omi!” He hears over the other cheering fans. 

Well, he can’t let his boyfriend down now, can he?

Hitting the ball with a powerful swing, it goes somewhere in the outfield, Kiyoomi is only looking at the base ahead. Hinata has already dashed off and might even be on his way to third by now with how fast he is. 

Rounding first he looks to find where the ball is. It’s just been picked up by the centerfielder. If he tries to go for second, Hinata can probably make it home. He decides to gamble it. That little ginger shit better run. 

He sees the ball go flying in front of him to the catcher in hopes of tagging Hinata. Glancing to home plate, Kiyoomi sees Hinata slide. 

“SAFE!” The umpire calls. 

And that’s the game.

Bokuto hoists up Hinata and sets him on Kageyama’s shoulders once he’s done shaking him around like a ragdoll. He then proceeds to do some weird handshake with Kuroo. Nishinoya’s war cry rings out loud and clear. Clowns. All of them. Ushijima sends Kiyoomi a thumbs up and a nod, which he returns. 

“Come on, Cuz! There’s someone who wants to see you!” He turns to Komori who stands by the gate where a crowd of people is waiting. 

Blonde hair fights through the crowd until Kiyoomi can see his smiling face. Atsumu runs to him and dives into Kiyoomi’s open arms. 

“Omi! Ya were amazin’!” He looks up and smirks. “And ya look super hot in those baseball pants.”

He feels his ears burn with embarrassment. He’s really going to have to get used to such bold compliments. “Thanks.”

“Are ya goin’ out to celebrate tonight?”

“We have school tomorrow.”

“So?”

Not being able to help himself, he plants a kiss on Atsumu’s forehead. “Fine.”

“Ew. Get a room,” Suna says monotonously from where he’s draped over Osamu’s shoulders.

Atsumu flips him off.

They end up doing karaoke, much to Kiyoomi’s displeasure. He can’t sing. He doubts anyone else on the team can either. Again, no creativity exists within any of them. If the club room is a circus, then this private room they’ve been shoved into has the full three rings and everything. All twelve team members are in attendance along with their significant others. Then there are friends as well. There are literally over thirty people in this room. Why did he agree to this again?

Atsumu is singing what he thinks is some Taylor Swift song with Oikawa. He hates the fact that they’re actually pretty good. And they’re dancing like they're twenty-two or something. The way Atsumu’s hooded eyes are looking at him as he sings makes Kiyoomi feel a little hot. His hormones really need to chill. 

Thankfully the song ends, and Atsumu skips back over to him. “Are ya okay, Omi-kun?” 

He nods and pats the spot next to him on the high back sofa booth, which Atsumu quickly plops down on. Being able to casually wrap his arm around the Atsumu’s waist helps relieve his anxiety. The idea that another person can bring him such comfort seemed so foreign before. In fact, there are a lot of things that seemed so far fetched before Atsumu became a fixture in his life.

“Oh my god, look at Keiji-kun’s face!” Atsumu points over to their classmate.

He looks between wishing the ground would swallow him whole and melting into a puddle of goo. It’s a disconcerting expression, to say the least. Bokuto is singing some popular boy band song with questionable lyrics to his boyfriend. He definitely has no idea what the English words mean. Akaashi definitely does. Meanwhile, Atsumu is having a blast laughing at the ordeal.

Basically the night devolves into one half of a relationship embarrassing the other half. Tendou turns as red as his hair at one point. Ushijima doesn’t even know what he did. Kiyoomi is pretty sure Hinata and Kageyama are having a contest on who can embarrass the other worse. He’s getting secondhand embarrassment from watching them. 

The only ones who remain unaffected are Osamu and Suna. They sit together and are definitely judging everyone. Suna has his phone pulled out and occasionally gets up to get a better angle. Kiyoomi shudders at the amount of material he’s gathering from just this one night. He really hopes he hasn’t done anything noteworthy. That one video of him is shameful enough. 

When Iwaizumi and Oikawa start shamelessly making out, Kiyoomi decides it’s time to go. He’s not about to watch whatever tomfoolery is going to happen next. Atsumu happily joins him in his departure. 

Walking to the bus stop together hand-in-hand, Astumu asks, “Didja have fun, Omi-kun?”

“I did.” Despite the chaos, it was entertaining. 

“Ya didn’t sing though.” He sticks his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “You should be thankful. I’d probably break your eardrums.”

Atsumu insists that he can’t be that bad, but Kiyoomi knows he is. So does Komori. His cousin is probably thankful as well. Tone-deaf, he’d been called. He’s not all that bothered. 

“But yer regular talkin’ voice is super sexy! All deep and manly!”

His face flares red. Jesus. “Shut up, that has nothing to do with singing talent.”

Atsumu only laughs at him. He’s lucky Kiyoomi finds him so cute.

He decides to walk his boyfriend home, not wanting to part ways quite yet. However, they arrive at the Miya home much too quickly. 

“Thanks for walkin’ me home, Omi,” Atsumu says, adjusting his jacket in the cool night air.

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow at school.” He leans down for a kiss. It makes his heart pound in his chest. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over how it makes him feel.

Before he turns to walk away, Atsumu stops him. “Hey, Kiyoomi?” At the use of his full given name, he turns in question. “I love ya,” he says with a small, genuine smile. 

It’s really no fault of his own when he can’t control himself and pulls Atsumu into a crushing kiss. With one arm wrapped around Atsumu’s waist, he uses his other hand to angle his head into a better position. 

As with everything he does, Atsumu doesn’t hold back and secures his arms around Kiyoomi’s neck. The breathy puffs of air between them warms their chilled lips as they melt into the other’s embrace. The feel of Atsumu’s soft mouth against his own is his own secret euphoria. Each kiss begs him to press closer, and the first meet of tongue lights a fire in his abdomen. 

When he pulls back for air, both he and Atsumu are breathing heavily. His red, kiss swollen lips are tempting him back in, but Kiyoomi needs to show at least some restraint.

“I love you, too.” He finally replies. 

Atsumu’s fond gaze destroys him. He thinks, _To hell with it._ and kisses him again.

The bell has just rung for lunch break. As he’s packing up his notes, an envelope is suddenly slid onto his desk. Looking up, Atsumu is there with a mischievous smile. Then he wiggles his fingers in a wave and skips off to do Atsumu things. 

Kiyoomi blinks a few times before grabbing the letter. He hasn’t received one since last week’s “last” one. He definitely wasn’t expecting another. There’s a little chibi fox sticker, and it’s precious. It reminds him of Atsumu. 

They’ve been dating officially for a week now. And Kiyoomi has to say that it’s been a fantastic week, even though most of it was taken up by the baseball tournament. However, it’s over now and he wants to actually spend some time with his boyfriend. It’s funny, how not a lot of their relationship has changed; but at the same time, everything has. 

Atsumu still texts him like a man possessed, but thankfully uses proper fucking grammar now. The small things in life. He still tries to annoy the hell out of him too. But now they’re allowed to openly look at and touch each other. Atsumu is so open with his words, it’s a bit dizzying. Having ridiculously flowery words written to him is one thing, but this asshole actually says it out loud now. 

In fact, yesterday he told Kiyoomi that the two moles above his eyebrow are _a visible mark of where an angel has left their blessing in the form of a kiss_. Like who the fuck says that?! And with a completely serious face. His face had felt like it was on fire! The whole thing was ridiculous. 

Needless to say, he’s learned how much of a little shit Atsumu really is. Half-truths and “technically not a lies” are things Atsumu excels at. Turns out he was purposely feeding Kiyoomi certain questions because he quickly realized he was using ones in his letters that Atsumu asked him through text. 

Then he found out that Atsumu would sometimes hide and watch Kiyoomi’s reactions to his poems and notes. That’s fucking embarrassing. _“But ya were so cute, Omi-Omi!”_ He’d said. Ugh. He knew he had felt like someone was there a few times. 

_Omi-Omi!_

_I’ve been able to call you my boyfriend for a week now, can you believe that?! I honestly didn’t think I’d ever get this far. I was pretty content with being able to leave you anonymous letters, but you just couldn’t leave it be, huh? You and your insistent need to see things through. If I didn’t find it so endearing, it’d be annoying. Don’t scoff, I can find you annoying too! Plus, your reactions are way too cute. Like that video Sunarin took at the anime café? Heh. Yeah, I saw that. You thought I looked so hot~ That’s alright, you weren’t the only one. Though your opinion was the only one I cared about. Oh, and you’re never getting your jacket back. Sorry, not sorry. Pry it from my cold dead hands. Speaking of looking hot, do you know how disappointed I am that I’m not going to get to see your fine ass in those baseball pants until the Invitational in March?!_

_Anyway, I wrote something for you. You’d still like to get notes and poems sometimes, right? I hope so because you’re kind of my muse. I can’t help but be inspired whenever I see you. I’ve been pent up from not leaving you something every day. So umm… Here’s three._

_I remember when I first met you in first year  
I remember that look on your face when I first saw you play  
I remember the bright passion in your usually dark eyes  
And how it completely enraptured me  
I remember leaving that first letter in your locker  
I remember that disgusted look on your face  
I remember you ended up opening it with a soft expression  
Even though I never intended to let you know who I was  
I remember that look on your face when you confessed  
But my favorite memory is yet to come _

_In summertime, our love is gentle, like cherry blossoms floating in the breeze.  
In wintertime, our love is warm — it embraces from head to toes._

_If skies are blue, our love is tender — two people dancing in the sun.  
If thunder rolls our love is calm, a refuge from the falling rain._

_When spring flowers bloom, our love is bold, like crimson petals on the rosebud.  
When autumn leaves fall, our love is gold, shining bright like a harvest sunset._

_From summer heat till winter snow our love will continue to grow.  
From season to season I love you always! My one, my only, my Omi._

_You are always on my mind  
Your love makes me blind  
Never shall I kiss anyone else's lips  
Not having you around feels like a solar eclipse_

_With our love combined everything is in reach  
Our love cannot be breached  
Words cannot express  
How you have captured my heart with success_

_Being with you makes everything else so futile  
Being with you really makes life worthwhile  
Eternal bliss is where I’m bound  
In your arms is where it’s found_

_All of you is what I need  
Together we will succeed  
I look forward to our next moment together  
With you, life cannot become any better_

_-❤ Atsumu_

Seeing that heart accompanied by Atsumu’s name produces so many endorphins in his brain. This idiot is so cute. And Kiyoomi can’t even kiss him because he ran off somewhere. It’s not fair, he pouts secretly. He wants to see Atsumu’s reaction to his own reaction. This is not an equivalent exchange. 

He wants to take Atsumu on a date this weekend. A real one. Knowing how he is, Atsumu would probably like something kind of cheesy. Like maybe a picnic in Ueno Park? Perfect.

**~***~***~***~ Five Years Later ~***~***~***~**

“Omi, are we goin’ to Ueno Park?” Atsumu asks as he rolls a single red rose between his fingers.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Kiyoomi asks, gently guiding him with his free hand. 

Atsumu glances at the picnic basket in Kiyoomir’s other hand and smiles softly. “This makes me think of our first date.”

_Good._ He thinks. That’s his exact intention. Dating this hopeless sap for the last five years has really rubbed off on him. Though he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Being with Atsumu has really changed him, in a good way. Kiyoomi has learned how to be more open and expressive. Don’t get him wrong, he’s still a blunt jerk a good portion of the time. However, now he has no problem when Atsumu says something way too open and embarrassing to find the right words and retort. It’s extremely satisfying when he wins. Atsumu goes all shy and silent on him with a red face. It never fails to make Kiyoomi fall a bit more in love. 

Their relationship hasn’t been completely smooth sailing. It’s hard with them both being professional athletes in different sports. The twins have become the darlings of the doubles tennis circuit. Both he and Suna would like to beg to differ on them being _darlings_ , but that’s their own secret. 

Since joining the Black Jackals, he’s been reunited with a few of his high school teammates and introduced to a few new ones. Being on the same team as Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Suna, and Hinata again is actually pretty nice. 

Spreading out the picnic blanket on the ground, Kiyoomi tries very hard to act natural. Inside, he’s freaking out. He hasn’t felt this nervous about anything regarding Atsumu since high school. 

It isn’t until after they have finished their meals and are sitting in comfortable silence that Kiyoomi knows it’s time. The scene gives him so much nostalgia. The sun begins to sink in the sky as they sit on their checkered blanket under the maple tree. 

Turning to Atsumu he says, “I wrote you a poem.” 

Atsumu’s surprised face is shrouded by the fondness in his eyes. Kiyoomi has never written a poem for his boyfriend before. Well, he’s never given him one at least. He’s tried valiantly and failed. Everything he’s ever written fails to capture exactly what he wants to say. 

He once asked Atsumu how he comes up with such things and was told that he didn’t know how to describe it. That it’s something he feels deep in his bones and the words just scream to get out, so he writes. Needless to say, it was a bizarre explanation and left Kiyoomi very confused. 

The one he’s about to share is not one born from that exact mantra, but it’s something that he feels so profoundly in the deepest trenches of his heart. 

“I think it’s called a free verse. Would you like to hear it?”

A smirk plays at Atsumu’s lips. “Ya have it memorized, Omi?” He nods. “I’d love to hear it.”

He tries to calm his rapidly increasing heartbeat before he begins. 

“I remember crimson leaves and golden sun reflected in your eyes,  
And I thought I’d never seen something quite so picturesque.

I lose sleep as I struggle for the right words to say.  
I want to say all the wonderful things I’ve thought of you,  
But how can I describe in mere sentences that a man like you exists?  
I must have done something right to deserve you in my life.  
Just your voice makes me happier than you could ever know,  
And the way you’ve changed my world makes me glad that I’m with you.

Please always smile when the stars at night come out,  
Cause your laughter and your love are all I’ve been thinking about.  
Just the thought of you sustains me,  
And that smile of yours makes the whole world shine.  
I love the way I feel when I’m with you.

Now once again, the crimson leaves and golden sun reflect in your eyes,  
And still, I’ve never seen something quite so picturesque;  
And I never want to be parted from you.”

As he finishes the last line, Kiyoomi slowly maneuvers his hand to where he’s kept the whole purpose for this outing. Keeping eye contact with Atsumu, he sees his boyfriend trying to keep back tears. 

“Atsumu,” he brings out the velvet box and opens it. “Will you marry me?”

Atsumu sits there in shock with wide eyes for just a moment before bursting into tears and throwing himself at Kiyoomi. “Yes!”

Embracing his now fiancé, Kiyoomi thinks about how this man is the best thing to ever happen to him. Saying the right words can be difficult, but the right person can change the meaning of even the most mundane term. Then again, the right words can change the whole meaning of your life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe my little secret admirer fic is over. This just bloomed from me wondering what would happen if Atsumu suddenly left poems in Omi's shoe locker. So thank you so much to everyone that read it! I've loved reading all your thoughts along the way. 
> 
> Also, feel free to come talk with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/TwilaWrites). I'm always down for ideas, suggestions, or just a chat 😄
> 
> ~Twila❄


End file.
